Pink Water
by planetfall
Summary: The Charmings' apartment becomes overcrowded, so Emma moves into Regina's mansion to be closer to Henry. [Set post-4A.]
1. Blooming

**I. Blooming**

"Thanks."

Emma watched David sticky-tape the seams of the last cardboard boxes. Most of her belongings had already been transported to the mansion and were sprawled across Regina's marble floor in stacked heaps.

"No problem," her father assured. He had known for a while that Emma would choose to move out sooner or later, although didn't predict she'd become housemates with Henry's other mother. Or perhaps he did. It made sense, nonetheless, but the Blanchard apartment was beginning to feel a little emptier on the inside.

Mary Margaret was sitting on an armchair with baby Neal in her arms, cradling him. David was hastening with the boxes now. Emma was scheduled to arrive at Regina's that afternoon and she promised she'd join Henry on his way home from school. It started to hit her that the mansion would soon become _her_ home too.

"We can go pile these up in your car," David suggested, hauling up the final possessions into his arms.

"Wait!" Mary Margaret ensued, putting the baby down. "Emma…"

She walked towards them and cupped her hands around her daughter's cheeks. "I knew this day would come. But I'm going to miss you. I'm going to miss you as my daughter and as my friend."

Emma gave her a timid smile. "I know. I'll miss you too."

"Guys," David croaked, muscles hurting. "I need to put these down before my arms fall off."

"Right." Mary Margaret held Emma's shoulders. "It'll be great. I'm sure of it."

"I hope so," Emma anticipated. She looked at her father before they left through the apartment door, hands full of boxes, stumbling down the hallway.

Upon reaching the street, they loaded them into Emma's car. David didn't hesitate to hug his daughter tightly, and she softened into the embrace.

"Are you sure you haven't left anything?" he questioned.

"I'm sure."

She looked at her watch and panicked. Ten minutes until Henry was due to hop off the bus.

* * *

><p>"Hey, kid!" she called, leaning against the car-door as Henry came towards her.<p>

He waved his hand and quickened his pace. "I'm not a kid, anymore, you know–"

"Ok kid." Emma silenced him with a hug. She had no patience for his rebuttal.

Henry glanced through the windows of her car and made a face. "Is that the last of your stuff?"

"Yeah," Emma said confidently. "Excited for more junk on your living room floor?"

He shrugged. "I don't care. Maybe we could build a fort."

"That would be pretty awesome," she agreed, opening the passenger door to let him in. "But let's not add fuel to the fire."

Regina had reluctantly agreed to let Emma stay on the premise that she wanted to be closer to Henry. She was becoming distanced from her son, distracted by curses and sheriff-duties and barnacle-Hook clouding her life. Besides, the mansion was so gigantic it could probably even house those rowdy dwarfs with ease.

"She won't be home until five." Henry guaranteed at least an hour of fun.

"Is that so?" his mother queried as she started the engine.

They cracked jokes and laughed at each other as Emma drove home, which was only a little way away, the mansion springing up from the street like a white castle amidst the trees.

* * *

><p>"You're stronger than I thought," Emma said, surprised at Henry's ability to transport more boxes of her stuff through the door than she could herself.<p>

"I told you I wasn't a kid anymore," he chuckled, closing it behind him. They luxuriated in the cool air of the living room. Which looked like a dumpsite.

Emma tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and examined it all. "Regina might kill me."

"Don't be stupid," Henry teased and ran over to the hoard of mess. "This is perfect."

His mother couldn't resist the endearing charm. "I know!" she called out. Her voice echoed off the walls; she wasn't used to residing in such a spacious abode.

Henry began stacking cardboard boxes in rows and columns until a framework of two walls was set up.

"Kid…" Emma disciplined, or at least tried to, before she went over to partake in the construction.

"You're doing it all wrong," she scoffed light-heartedly, shoving Henry away.

"Hey!" he barked. "Am not."

Emma was piling up the boxes into a masterpiece. The two parallel walls were joined up and then an entrance was constructed. She even erected a beam in the middle so that a makeshift ceiling could be created. The entire thing turned into a giant cardboard enclosure with a small cubbyhole in the front, decorated with random items from around the area.

Henry grabbed a torch and threw it inside. "There we go," he said. "Our secret hiding place."

Their fort took up the majority of the living room. "Yeah, she'll never notice it," Emma jeered.

He rolled his eyes. Something he had inherited from both his mothers. "We need some pillows…"

Emma jumped into the impromptu blockhouse and set up the cushions her son was ripping off the lounge around the floor. They even threw in a blanket, because such a floor wasn't the comfiest surface in the world.

Finally, Henry jumped in after her, nearly knocking the whole structure down.

"Careful Henry," Emma muttered. "You're not a kid anymore. You're not small enough for one of these–"

He nudged her with his shoulder and Emma crashed into the pillows. It was rather dark in there but Henry managed to hang his torch from the cardboard ceiling.

"Now what?" he asked, scratching his head.

Emma grinned from ear to ear, eyes twinkling. She picked up a pillow and struck him across the chest with it.

"No way," Henry cautioned, recovering from the blow.

Emma was laughing in the corner. She couldn't help but giggle at her son's shocked expression. She laughed with her whole body, throwing her head back and then– WHACK. Henry hit her with another pillow. A war had begun.

* * *

><p>Regina was having one of those long, boring days. Mary Margaret had enlisted her that morning to go through some of the mayoral duties that she <em>still<em> failed to understand. Getting Henry up and ready for school was a bore. General conversation with people in Storybrooke was a bore. Between time-travel and monsters and witches and curses, the town wasn't as alive as it should be. Nothing was thrilling. No dangerous adventures. No tracking down the enemy. No magic. At least, it wasn't as necessary.

She was spending the afternoon with Tinker Bell. Regina finally had the chance to enjoy this simple life in a way that she had never been able to do before. However, they had talked about 'happy endings' for a while and before long, it became another boring conversation to add to the list. She checked the time on the wall and sighed.

"Sorry, I really have to get going," she apologised, reaching for her jacket.

"Wait a second," Tink urged, standing up. "Why?"

Regina headed for the door. "Emma's coming over with her things."

"What things?" The fairy was perplexed.

"She's…moving in."

Regina could tell she had made a mistake by letting the information slip. Tinker Bell was notorious for digging into her personal life and relationships.

"And you neglected to tell me this _all_ afternoon?" she interrogated flintily.

"It isn't a big deal," Regina hummed, now wanting to sprint out the door.

Tink was unyielding. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"I knew Emma would move in eventually."

Regina was staring at her friend blankly. "You are not the prophet of my destiny, dear."

Tinker Bell shook her head and looked up at the ceiling like she had just had an epiphany.

"You and Emma!"

"Excuse me?" Regina jibed.

"I knew it all along." She was hopping around with delight, the words rolling off her tongue. "I knew the sparks were there!"

Regina arched a brow. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Nothing," the fairy giggled. "Nothing at all."

"I hope you know…" Regina paused, turning to head outside. "We are doing this for Henry's sake."

She left without hearing a reply, while Tink was laughing under her breath.

* * *

><p>"Henry!" Emma bellowed across the living room. He was hiding behind a stack of boxes. Their fort had become slightly deconstructed as they decided to have a war of extremes. "Where are you?"<p>

She didn't know where the rascal had concealed himself. The saviour was perched behind the side of the lounge with a pillow in hand. "Henry?"

"That's it." She stood up and turned around, only for Henry's pillow to smash against her face. Emma was so shocked that she tumbled to the floor, dragging a glass lamp down with her, which shattered on the surface.

"Oh god," Henry gasped, cupping a hand to his mouth and dropping the cushion.

Emma rubbed her forehead. "It's alright. It was a good shot."

"Don't move."

She looked at the floor around her, which was teeming with white shards. "Shit," she said. "Oh, sorry Henry."

He reached out a hand and pulled her up off the ground. They stared at the mess.

"I bet that it was expensive," Emma mentioned, which wasn't helping the situation. Her mouth was gaping in disbelief.

Just then, the sound of key-in-lock came into the space. Front door. Regina. Regina was home.

_Shit_, Emma thought, her body tensing up. Henry glanced up at her, alarmed, and quickly bolted up the stairs to his room.

"Coward!" she shouted. "Henry!"

But Emma was already in deep water. It wasn't exactly the best way to start this new chapter of her life.

Regina strolled through the entrance, heels clicking against the marble.

"What the hell?" she choked as she saw the state of the area.

Emma's jaw dropped. "I can explain."

Regina walked into the living room, which held the aftermath of all chaos. "Please do."

The other woman composed herself, standing among the rubble. "I will firstly apologise sincerely and with great regret for the mess I have created here especially because–"

"Oh, stop," Regina interrupted, scanning over the boxes. "How could I expect anything less from you?"

Emma gulped. "_And_ Henry."

Regina turned to her and sneered. "You're selling out your own son?"

"It was his idea. But I take full responsibility for it."

"Fine. But…" She caught sight of the broken lamp. "Oh no."

The air in the room was suffocating. Regina sat down on one of the boxes and placed her fingertips on her temples.

"I'm so sorry, Regina."

The older woman sat in silence for a moment, ruminating over the mayhem. Finally, she said something in quiet tones. "It's quite alright."

Emma felt awful.

"I'll show you to the guestroom."

She rose up and waved a hand at Emma, who followed her obligingly up the stairs. She walked slowly and the sheriff admired for the thousandth time how good she looked in black.

"Henry!" she called. The boy was hiding away in his room, sharing Emma's guilt.

"Henry?" Regina repeated, creaking his door open.

He was sitting on his bed, swamped in miscellaneous sheets of paper. "Hi," he said with a cheesy smile.

Emma gave him a scowl from behind Regina's back.

"How was school?" his mother asked, stepping into the space and kissing him on the forehead.

"Good!" He continued with the over-enthusiasm in attempt to cover up the happenings of before.

"And what is this?" she inquired, brushing a hand over all the papers.

"English homework," he responded with a frown.

"Hmm…" Emma droned from the doorway. Already being an imposition in the household. "Very innocent."

As Regina turned her back to him, Henry poked out his tongue.

"Come along, Emma." Regina began to close the door.

Emma quickly stuck her head through the gap and looked at Henry. "I'm in trouble," she whispered.

They finally came to the guestroom.

"Here it is," she welcomed, the place done up, bed freshly made. Emma had never seen such an immaculate room.

"Wow," she replied. "This is great."

The blonde made her way onto the bed and slumped over it. She rolled around to her side and smiled at the other woman. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Regina lingered on the words for a moment. "Now I suppose we're going to have to unpack your things."

Emma's body curved against the blankets and she spread her arms out on the surface of the bed.

"Now, Emma. I don't want my house looking like a bombsite."

Emma rolled over to the floor and stood up, straightening out the bed. "Where's _your_ room?"

Regina's eyes flickered. "Down the hall. Why?"

"Well, just in case there's an emergency."

She waved at Emma to come outside in order to start unpacking.

"And _only_ if it's an emergency," she retorted. "I don't want you disturbing me at all hours of the night."

Emma grinned. "What makes you think I'll do that?"

They dragged Henry out of his room to help downstairs, needing all the assistance they could get.

"You seem like a person with bad sleeping habits, Emma."

Henry was apathetic. Regina had kicked off her heels. Nevertheless, they began carrying the boxes up to the guestroom, or now, it should be called _Emma's_ room.

Emma didn't actually have a hoard of stuff at first. She wasn't sentimental. Though, she had accumulated a fair amount throughout her years of living in Storybrooke. She arrived at the town with barely anything, although sooner or later became attached to the items in her room at the Blanchard apartment, magnetised to the feeling of home.

Once they were all stacked up on the floor by the bed, Emma and Henry started to rip them open and organise her possessions around the room.

Regina leaned against the doorframe, watching her son and her– friend? Co-parent? Whatever Emma was, she was lost in the sight of the woman and her son working together.

"I'm going to start the dinner," she said with a smile.

* * *

><p>"Kid, you are one hell of an interior decorator."<p>

They had finished the last of the unpacking. Emma's clothes were now in the wardrobe and drawers, things lined up in rows and put in their place just like normal.

"You think Regina will mind if I put my stuff in the bathroom?"

Henry shrugged his shoulders. "Nope."

There were a few in the mansion. Henry had his own. After all, he was basically a messy teenage boy. Regina had her own, too, but her things were still scattered in the main one – perfume, makeup, fancy bath salts and soaps everywhere. Emma gawked at them as she arranged her things.

Henry poked his head through the doorway. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Emma certified, turning around. "Everything's great. I should wash up before dinner."

The boy went back to his homework and awaited the lasagne his mother was making downstairs.

Emma had been having a hell of a busy day. She packed up her things early in the morning, and then raced to work, only to receive a bunch of phone calls from random townspeople complaining about various things in Storybrooke. She did paperwork. She had lunch at Granny's. She examined a case of robbery down at the docks. She ran home and got her things together, doing a few short trips over to Regina's before the final one, when she would leave her parents for good.

She scrambled around the bathroom, deciding she would have a shower. Emma didn't hesitate to blast the water pressure, fogging up the mirror with steam. Nor was she reluctant to explore Regina's products, one of them a rose-coloured wash that turned the water and steam pink. And everything smelt amazing.

After indulging herself, for once, without Snow or David or even Henry banging on the door, without timed showers and chaotic mornings in her family's apartment, she re-dressed and went to find her son. However, after peeking into his room, it became clear that he had gone down for dinner.

Emma went to investigate. Henry was watching TV. (So much for homework.)

Regina was in the kitchen, reaching up into a cupboard for plates.

"Hey," Emma greeted, sauntering in.

The other woman turned around. Eyes welcoming. The sleeves of her dress were rolled up to her elbows.

"Would you like to give me a hand?"

Emma took the plates from her. "Sure."

They set the table as Henry barked at them from the living room. _Please, just a few more minutes! It's a short episode!_

"Henry. Dinner. Now." Regina called to him from afar.

He tumbled over the side of the lounge and trudged over to the dining table. His mood quickly lightened when he saw three settings, having wanted both his mothers planted firmly in his life for some time now. It was the epitome of family, and he revelled in the relief that they were _at least_ friends.

"Looks fantastic," Emma complimented as they took their seats.

Regina thanked her. She then turned to her son.

"So, I received an email from your English teacher today."

He was looking down innocently, but feverishly scanning the day's events for any sign of trouble at school.

"I didn't do it, I swear," he confessed stonily.

"Henry," his mother laughed. "Don't worry. She simply told me that you're getting rather ahead. And perhaps you would suit the class of the year above better."

"Oh," he sighed, putting down his fork. "Yeah, she told me too."

The rhythm of school had only just begun to dawn on him. He had been off on various adventures of all kinds in the past year or so, unable to stay at the place for more than a few weeks before the next danger would knock on Storybrooke's door. Besides, his mothers were always distracted. Although not anymore.

"That's great Henry!" Emma congratulated, patting him on the back. He was beaming on the inside.

* * *

><p>The boy had gone off to watch TV again. It was a Friday night and neither of his mothers could be bothered to make him do anything productive. The dynamic took some getting used-to.<p>

"Maybe we should assign a good-cop and a bad-cop," Emma suggested as they stacked the plates on the dining table.

Regina wrinkled up her face. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" she urged. "You can be good-cop. I'll be the evil one."

The other woman noticed the reference.

"You know I'm only joking, right?" Emma assured.

Regina took the crockery and walked to the kitchen, singing out "I know!" on her way. She opened the dishwasher and turned on the sink's tap, rinsing the dishes.

Emma followed her, glancing over at the TV in the distance. She couldn't make out what Henry was watching. Besides, she was pretty behind the times these days, even with movies. Didn't need the things when she lived among the characters themselves.

Regina was lining plates in the dishwasher.

"Oh!" she whirred when she felt Emma's hand on her back.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the woman asked, resisting contact when she felt the surprise.

Regina's body softened. "No. I can manage three plates…" She felt Emma's presence close behind her, mildly, and then all of a sudden she was gone, over to hang out with Henry.

* * *

><p>It was late. Regina had joined the others at the TV, and Henry was feverishly flicking through channels. They were hardly watching. Emma was fumbling around on her phone and Regina had reading-glasses on and a book in-hand, their son sitting between them on the lounge.<p>

A fact suddenly emerged in his mind. "You guys," he summoned, his mothers' eyes rising from their respective recreations. "Do you realise that you're going to be with each other forever?"

"Excuse me?" Regina inquired, wide-eyed.

"I mean that you'll always be in each other's lives. And so will I."

Emma shrugged her shoulders. "So what?"

"Forever is a long time," Henry pondered.

"What do you mean _so what_?" Regina flared at Emma. "There are many people who would kill to be in my presence every day."

Emma laughed it off and nudged Henry's side with her elbow. "Hear that, kid? It's the sound of people lining up."

"Well…" Regina rasped, her voice falling an octave lower. "Not anymore."

"What do you mean?" the others questioned in unison.

"Having _two_ children living in my house now?" she goaded sarcastically, pointing at them. "Must be very attractive to all my suitors."

"Too bad," Emma blurted out from the other end of the lounge. "There are only two cops in this household."

"But only one sheriff," Henry pointed out, holding up the TV remote like a trident.

Emma giggled and looked at Regina, her head buried in the book, which covered her face. The moment had passed and she sunk into the lounge, feeling languid from the day's chaos.

"I'm going to call it a night," said the sheriff, standing up and stretching out her arms.

"You sure?" asked her son.

"Yeah." Emma reached for him and bent over to lightly kiss his forehead.

And then the pages of Regina's book obstructed her faint voice as she said: "Goodnight, Emma."

Emma walked away, brushing her hand over the other woman's shoulder as she passed. "Night," she called from outside the room.

"I guess she must have been really tired," Henry considered, still fiddling with the remote.

"I guess so," his mother said slowly. Emma wasn't as much of a household imposition as she previously thought. All the worries she had concocted in her head before were smothered by the blonde's pleasantness. It occurred to Regina that she was desperately trying to find reasons Emma _shouldn't_ be the most fitting of parents. Or partners. But that was out of the question.

"I think I'll go to bed too," Henry declared.

Regina raised her eyebrows. "Well, this is a _first_."

"Too much excitement for one day, I think," he mumbled to himself. His mother decided that there was no point hanging around alone, so she too would go to her room.

The lights and TV were turned off and they made their way up the stairs. Henry went to change and Regina glanced down the hall at the open door to the guestroom, which was now filled with the one person she couldn't quite make out her feelings for. She sighed as she walked to her own room, which was empty and had been for seasons long, breathing in the scent of the evening. Which was withering, but hadn't wilted yet.


	2. Magellanic Clouds

Notes: _I'd just like to clear up that while Hook is innocently mentioned once or twice (in literally just a sentence) within this chapter, it's only to relinquish the premise of canon/non-canon inconsistency. Him (and Hood) will not be in any way, shape or form part of the story to come; neither will the technicalities of Operation Mongoose. _

* * *

><p><span><strong>II. Magellanic Clouds<strong>

Scarlet rays of sun were striping the windows of the guestroom. Emma was having one of those reeling actualisations, often accompanied by a quick shock and a room-scan, where one forgets where they are after sleeping in a bed that isn't theirs. However, as she rubbed her eyes and sat on the side of the mattress, the smell of 6AM ripe in the air, she convinced herself that the bed _was _hers now.

Emma clumsily reached for her phone and squinted at the screen. It was a new message from David that had woken her up.

_Hey. I could use some help at the station today if you're around. I know it's Saturday. But it shouldn't take too long._

Emma groaned loudly at the fact that even with two sheriffs on call in Storybrooke, getting anything done around town entailed a far cry. Nevertheless, she put on a brave but sleepy face and roamed forth into the morning, typing up a reply.

_I'll be there soon._

She slinked into the bathroom and winced at the sight of her own reflection in the colossal mirror. Her hair was wild and scruffy and the bags under her eyes made her look like a walking horror-movie. The sheriff never considered that living with Regina would mean _seeing_ each other in such sloppy attire, pyjama-wear, makeup-less glory and in various states of undress…well, perhaps not that.

She crept down the hall, praying that Henry and his mother were still fast asleep in their respective rooms so as not to frighten themselves at the sight of her appearance. Emma went downstairs. Grabbed a piece of fruit from the kitchen. Then she tiptoed out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

The weather outside was cold and bitter. She shivered as she darted through the front garden.

'Dad,' she pronounced through her phone. 'What's going on?'

'It's the robbery,' she heard on the other end of the line.

'What about it?'

'It's now ongoing. The dockworkers have filed another case of it, on another boat,' he explained.

Emma scratched the back of her head before getting into her car. 'Odd,' she murmured.

'It looks pretty bad.' David was already at the station surveying the reports, chewing on a pen.

'No worries. See you in a bit.' She hung up. Saturdays in Storybrooke were just like any other day for Emma Swan.

* * *

><p>"Hey. Can I get a bagel?" she requested, slouching over the counter at Granny's.<p>

"The usual?"

"Yeah."

Ruby smiled back at her. The blonde had spent way too many early mornings in that diner. The place had only just opened, vacant and draughty. She had spent many late nights in there too, drinking alone and recruiting Ruby for company.

"So…" the waitress lingered, handing the sheriff her breakfast. "How's Regina's place?"

"It's alright." She peeked into the bag.

"_Just_ alright?" Ruby grilled. "If you don't want to live there, I'll happily take your place."

"I'm sure Regina would love that," she mumbled.

The other woman was smirking. "You're living in her mansion. Aren't you thrilled?"

"It's certainly better than residing with my parents."

Ruby circled around the bench and took a seat on one of the stools next to Emma. "But the question is whether you can manage it."

"Manage what?"

"Living with Regina," she purred.

"I am a _good_ housemate," Emma retorted. "I'm clean and quiet and pleasurable."

"_Pleasurable_," Ruby giggled. "You're hysterical, that's what. I'm sure you'll manage it well."

Emma pushed herself off the surface of the bar and pulled the sleeves of her jacket over her hands. "I know I will. Henry loves me being there. And Regina's great. And I can't talk anymore because David's waiting for me at the station!"

Ruby laughed at her friend whole-heartedly. "Man, you're lucky as hell."

She simpered, having worked herself up into a storm, and went for the door. As it swung open, she sang out, "I know!"

* * *

><p>Regina ambled into her kitchen, catching sight of Henry fiddling with an aggregation of pots and pans. One of them tumbled out of his grip and crashed onto the floor with a loud bang.<p>

"Shit," he hissed, springing away from it.

"Language!" Regina blazed from behind.

He whisked around, being startled again by his mother.

"So, Emma moves in and your sophistication is destroyed…" she said as she picked up the pan from the floor.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I was never that sophisticated. But I'm sorry."

Regina had previously admitted to Henry that she liked being able to blame some of his mishaps on Emma. And by some, she meant all.

"Never lessen yourself, Henry."

"Well, good morning to you too," he greeted warmly, wrapping his arms around her out of guilt.

She reluctantly accepted the embrace, but her attention became trapped by the disaster near the sink. "What were you doing over there?"

He sighed into her shirt. "I was going to cook something nice for breakfast, since Emma's here. I thought it _could_ be nice but it turned out not to be so nice."

"Oh, Henry," she intoned, shoulders sinking. "You didn't have to do that."

"Besides, I checked the guestroom and it's empty."

"What?"

"She isn't even here."

Regina was puzzled. It was a _Saturday_, for Christ's sake, but she guessed it was generic for sheriffs to have odd hours. She floundered for the coffee machine.

"She must be down at the station…" the woman groused.

"Must be," he concurred. "Where else?"

Regina made coffee and went to have breakfast with her son. Henry giggled at his failed attempt at cooking while she tried to dig up the root of her cavernous problem with Emma taking off so early. So she decided to call her.

* * *

><p>"Any news?" Emma quizzed her father as she stumbled into the sheriff station.<p>

"Not yet," he muttered, flicking fruitlessly through a messy pile of papers. "You're the one who saw the remnants yesterday, first-hand. I didn't have that luxury…"

"I wouldn't call it a luxury," she remarked, looking over his shoulder. "That boat was under maintenance. Getting ready to sell. I guess it isn't on the market anymore."

David rested his head in his hands. "I suppose none of them will be. There are at least three now, which have had missing items and tampering reported."

She walked over to the other side of his desk, leaning over the files. "Did anyone commission the maintenance?"

"Well, that's what we're going to have to find out," he said. "Some big shot isn't going to be so happy."

"Neither is the criminal once we find him."

David put the papers back down and exhaled heavily. "I didn't want to weed it down to forensics, but it looks bad enough to hold such an investigation."

"Unless we can pinpoint the culprit straightaway," she suggested.

He groaned. "God, after you looked around yesterday, I thought the whole thing could be cleared up with–"

His sentence was interrupted by Emma's phone ringing in her pocket.

"I have to take this," she apologised, the name _Regina_ flashing on its screen.

"Fine. We'll have to go down there, you know," he mouthed.

She accepted the call and began to stroll around in awkward circles near the desk.

'Hi,' she addressed. 'What's up?'

'Well, nothing, since you somehow escaped my house in the early hours of the morning.'

'What? I'm at work.'

'So it seems.' Regina was still with her son at the breakfast table, her voice raspy and vague. 'It's okay Emma, Henry and I were just wondering.'

'Sorry. I don't usually sheriff on Saturdays but David needed some _extra help from his daughter_.' She glared at him jokingly.

"Hey, I am a good sheriff, thank you very much," he cut in.

'Very well,' Regina said through the phone. 'I suppose Storybrooke needs its heavy duty crime-stoppers on the job.'

Emma chuckled. 'You know, if you want to spend time with me, you can just ask.'

The woman stood up from the table and trudged away from Henry. 'No. Everything is perfectly fine.'

'Will I see you later then?'

'Of course.'

Emma hung up.

"Was that Hook?" David asked.

"No," Emma calmed. "Regina."

"You do realise you're going to have to stop avoiding the guy like the plague, right?"

"I'm not _avoiding_," she snapped. Put her phone in her pocket, and whispered in low undertones. "Everything is perfectly fine."

"As you say," he drawled, standing up from his chair and putting on his leather jacket. "But we should really get going."

Emma nodded. She wanted to get this over with. She wanted to get home.

* * *

><p>"Would you <em>like<em> to learn how to cook properly?" Regina asked her son as she went back over to the table.

Henry finished a mouthful of food and looked up. "Nah. When I get married, my wife will do it."

"Henry!" Regina slapped him on the arm. "That's no way to think."

"I'm only kidding," he assured her, rubbing at his skin. "Unfortunately I don't think I'd be very good at it, especially after this morning."

"Well, everyone can learn," she imparted, sipping her coffee.

He shook his head. "You're an amazing cook already, so why should I need to learn?"

His mother scoffed at that. "Flattery will get you nowhere, dear. Besides, it'll be a while before you're married," she laughed.

"So? Emma's a terrible cook," he divulged, joining in the humour.

"I'm sure she's not that bad."

"No," he corrected. "She's average. But you'll still cook for her."

Regina furrowed her eyebrows, staring blankly at her son. "I suppose."

"And so it makes sense. The better cook will do the cooking and the other person will use their skills doing something else."

"Aren't you _logical_," she droned, a finger circling the rim of her mug.

"Unless my future wife is a terrible cook," he chuckled.

"Indeed," his mother said. "And what exactly _is_ Emma good at?" she asked curiously.

"I guess…" he began, thinking intensely. "She's really fun. She'll jump into something with you just for the adventure of it. And she's not afraid to get her hands dirty–"

"Yes, I know that much," Regina intervened. "As seen from your supposed pillow fight yesterday."

"She's good company and she can always make you smile," he continued, his speech unbroken by the comment. "And she's a great listener, an encouraging friend, a good mother. She's a fighter, too."

"Unfortunately, those things won't help with common household duties," Regina mumbled, choking back the lump in her throat that rose with every mention of her son's adoration of his mother.

"Don't get too emotional," Henry sniggered, gawking at Regina's watery eyes.

"I'm not," she jeered. "Stop it. Now, what's happening today?"

An errant look veneered over his face. "Since it _is_ Saturday," he uttered, "I was wondering if I'd be able to go over to a friend's house."

Regina reclined back into her chair, glassy-eyed. "So, you've been invited over?"

"Yeah – Jack from school. He's just received a new video-game setup this week."

She ran a hand through her hair and looked out the window, a mellow sun in the sky. "And I suppose you're only asking me because he's invited you to stay the night?"

Henry forced a smile.

"You know," she said wearily, "I can buy you whatever setup he has."

He shook his head. "It's better playing with friends. Besides, if we get any more gaming stuff, Emma might get addicted."

"Oh really?" Regina snickered, looking back to her son.

"Yeah," he claimed. "Whatever memories you gave us in New York made her into a video-game nut."

"So, this is my doing?"

"Yep," he said.

"Okay," she agreed, patting his forearm. "I can drive you over there soon."

* * *

><p>The docks weren't located in the nicest-smelling area code of Storybrooke. David was pinching his nose and snorting like a pig as soon as they stepped out of the truck, a bunch of loose files nestled between his arm and waist.<p>

"Oh, get over it," Emma carped, walking ahead.

They made their way down to where the fishermen were working. A cluster of dockers was crowded around an array of middle-sized boats bobbing against the sea-current.

"Thank you for coming," one of them ran over and said to the sheriffs.

David shook his hand. His skin was as rough as rock. "Are you the one who called this morning?"

"Yeah, we met yesterday," mentioned Emma. "How many boats have been tampered with?"

"Three now, in total," the man croaked, gesturing in the direction of the ocean.

"And you have no idea who could have done this?" she queried.

"No."

"Do you know who owns them?" David questioned.

"Or who's put them on the market?" Emma added.

"Yes," he said, a cold fear in his eyes. "It's Mr Gold."

* * *

><p>"Henry! Are you ready?" Regina called up the stairs, her son scrambling around the hall with a bag.<p>

"Just a minute!"

She idly checked the time on her watch and then fidgeted with her phone in hand, wondering exactly when Emma would finish work. Regina was pacing around the entrance of the mansion now, waiting to drop Henry off at his unknown friend's place.

"Sorry!" he incanted as he galloped down the stairs.

She smiled at her son as he went across the room to fetch a pair of shoes.

"Do I know this _Jack_?" she called out.

"No," he said as he treaded to the door, fussing with his laces on the way. "Between the wicked witch and the curse, I haven't really had time for many friends."

She tilted her head in agreement. Henry was always hanging around people over the age of thirty and it was hardly good for him. The boy had endured more than any teenager typically would at his age, which didn't leave much room for social interaction.

They plodded to the car.

* * *

><p><em>Damn<em>, Emma thought. _Mr Gold isn't even in town. Well, maybe that's a good thing._

"We'll get it cleared up. I really think that there isn't enough security down here," David mused, strolling past the boats. "I'll have to call around and see what the best method of approach is. In the meantime, we might have to take them off the water."

"We can do that," said the dockers confidently.

Emma was looking out into the distance. David nudged her shoulder. "Hey," he buzzed. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she said, snapping back into reality.

"Can you call the forensics team?"

"Yeah."

Emma left the group and went to sit on a bench alongside the ocean. She began punching numbers into her phone when it suddenly vibrated in her hand, the name _Regina_ like a visual mantra. She answered it.

'Hey, what's going on?'

'Hi Emma. I just dropped off Henry at a friend's place.' Regina was sitting in her car on the opposite side of the road to the property. It was a large sandstone house and Jack seemed…well…decent enough for Henry's companionship.

'Oh, okay.'

'He's staying the night.'

'Really? I guess that's fine.'

She shifted around in the car seat, leaving silence on the other end of the line. And she thought: _Why the hell did I just call Emma again?_

'Is everything okay, Regina?'

'Yes,' she flared. 'Why wouldn't it be?'

The sheriff sighed through the phone. 'I don't know. You tell me.'

Regina was at a loss for words. She couldn't quite make out what was wrong. Henry wasn't with her and neither was Emma. And Tink was absolutely infuriating to be around, the fairy's constant picking and prodding of Regina's life becoming an incessant drag.

'When are you getting home from work?' she inquired, still thinking of Emma's apparently bad cooking skills. 'I'm only asking because I won't bother making dinner for one.'

Emma knew it'd probably be a long day. 'It really depends.'

'Please don't hesitate to let me know,' Regina urged, still mulling over Henry's words in her head.

'Sure.'

'Since I'm basically an impotent housewife,' she murmured under her breath.

But Emma heard it and laughed, envisioning the majestic Evil Queen and former mayor of Storybrooke as nothing but a stay-at-home consort.

'Sorry. I didn't mean to say that.' Regina instantly felt flushed.

'Course not. Anyway…' Emma paused, taking a quick glance down at the boats where David was negotiating with the workers. 'Instead, why don't I take you out for dinner tonight?'

Regina blushed. 'Really? Aren't you working?'

'David's lenient. I'll be home later on.'

The other woman agreed, her cheeks burning pink. What she'd actually agreed _to_, she didn't know. Soon after starting the engine and pulling out of the street, she found it hard to recognise herself, the heady residue of Emma's voice lingering in her mind.

"Emma," David intoned as he skipped up to the bench. "Did you speak to them?"

"Sorry, not yet. Regina called me."

He grinned smugly. "You know, Regina calls you more than Mary Margaret calls me. And _do you know_ how much Mary Margaret calls me?"

"More than necessary," Emma hummed.

"That's right. Now, please call the team so I can get back home to my over-communicative wife."

"Fine, I will," she muttered quietly. "So I can too."

* * *

><p>Low and behold, it was well into the evening before the sheriffs bumbled into the station, drowsy and yawning like overtired children.<p>

"Woah, I better call Regina," Emma said as she gawked at the time. David just fell into a chair, feeling sluggish from all the boat-transporting, evidence-gathering and investigation-planning that had evolved down at the docks into a wildfire of a crime.

Regina told herself she wouldn't call Emma for the third time in one day, but she was rapidly losing hope in the sheriff's return home. As she was dressed up and ready to go out, having waited for the woman a while now, it blatantly occurred to her that perhaps Emma wasn't as thrilled to be living in the mansion as she was before. Perhaps it was that she wanted to spend the least amount of time possible at the house, that it wasn't the right fit for her, that Henry wasn't enough of a reason to move in.

Regardless, she was sauntering around the kitchen when Emma called, and felt some sense of relief.

'Hey, Regina.'

'Are you coming home?'

Emma's voice hesitated. 'Sorry, I'm just really tired. I don't think I can go out again tonight.'

Regina waited quietly for a moment, leaning against the counter. 'That's fine.'

'You don't have to worry about dinner or anything. I can grab something from Granny's on the way back.'

Another instance of soundless thought ensued on the line.

'Regina?'

Finally, the woman gave up the waiting she had carried out for years. 'Yes. Emma, do whatever you want to do.'

After the conversation ended, Emma went over to David and sat on his desk, legs sore.

"Can we get the others on the case tomorrow?" he asked. "I'm really not up for another day of stinking fish."

"I'll call you. Give you some updates." She crossed her legs. "But no, no working tomorrow. At least _I_ won't be. This case will take longer than just a day. Besides, Gold is…well…who knows where Gold is?"

He smiled at his daughter and cleared the files off his desk, putting them into a drawer and locking it shut. "Do you miss going back to the apartment together after work?" he wondered.

"Yeah," she said. "Mary Margaret would give us the biggest welcome back hugs as if we could have died on the job that day."

He nodded slowly in agreement. "It's a dangerous profession, Emma. Being the backbone of Storybrooke."

Emma laughed gently. She rested a hand on his shoulder with a cordial smirk. "How do you think it feels to be the _saviour_?"

* * *

><p>"Fuck," Emma grouched as she stomped into Granny's diner, immediately cupping her mouth as she realised there were <em>actual people having dinner there<em>. She scanned the establishment for Ruby and felt relieved when she saw her behind the bar.

"You should really have some more sophistication here," the waitress said coyly as the sheriff sat across from her.

"I need a drink," Emma huffed.

"No you don't."

"Yes I do," she retaliated.

Ruby shook her head, refusing to let her friend spiral into a drunken mess. This wouldn't be one of those nights where they'd stay up and gossip about god-knows-what.

"Why aren't you at home?" she asked.

"I was meant to take Regina out for dinner, but it's too late now. I feel bad."

Ruby pursed her lips and went over to serve a couple of people drinks at the other side of the bar. "Procrastinating confrontation isn't going to help the situation," she whirred as she came back.

"There won't be any confrontation," Emma retorted. "Only awkwardness served with disappointment and a side of silence."

"You need to stop being so insecure around her," Ruby said blankly. "I'm sure everything is perfectly fine."

"It is," the blonde mused, looking down. "That's why I don't want to ruin it."

"You haven't ruined anything."

Emma looked at her friend and groaned, her limbs failing to move. She let her head fall into her arms on the bar as Ruby clucked her tongue.

"And you better _not_ wreck this," the waitress said harshly.

Emma raised her head. "I know."

"I mean for Henry's sake. You moved in for him, not Regina."

The sheriff knew she was right. One thing she adored about Ruby was that she could transform between the kind and caring friend, to the friend that puts you firmly in your place. This dual personality helped Emma on her off-days; when she'd begin to spiral off into emotional ruin, Ruby would be there to shoot her down.

"You're right," Emma confessed. Ruby was always right.

* * *

><p>Emma practically plummeted through the front door of the mansion, but she froze solid when she saw the lights were dim. She checked the time. Edging on midnight. The saviour had risen too early and was now exhausted, quietly promising herself that such a day of chaos would never happen again.<p>

She crept through the entrance hall to the living room and spotted the TV on low volume and a lamp shining faintly beside the lounge. The closer she went the more a curled-up Regina with a blanket came into view.

"Regina," she whispered as she lumbered over to the lounge.

The woman just moaned sleepily at her.

Emma surveyed the room for a second, unknowingly, and with little purpose. In spite of her twitching senses, her body finally softened into the hazy gloom, and she put her phone down, sick of talking nonsensically without seeing the woman right in front of her.

"I'm sorry," Emma exhaled as she loitered behind the lounge, orange light flickering darkly over Regina's skin. She stared at her silence in the sleepy dusk and reached over to seize the TV remote, turning off the colourful hum on the screen.

"I was watching that," Regina said in hushed tones, voice like liquid in the quiet.

Emma circled around to the front of the lounge and stood above the other woman. "No you weren't."

She patted a hand down on the cushions next to her and Emma obligingly sat down.

"How was work?"

"Boring."

"Have you eaten?"

"Yes." Emma's words became cloudy.

Regina grabbed her hand and squeezed it, briefly smiling through the coruscating shadows. Emma's heart jumped wildly at the touch before she released her grip.

"Do you work on Sundays?" she asked casually.

Emma chuckled, looking deeply into the other woman's eyes.

"I take that as a _no_," Regina said, facing forward and breaking the gaze.

"No," Emma repeated, edging closer to her.

She rested her head against the back of the lounge, and her eyes glazed over in the citrus light. The sheriff blinked slowly, nuzzling herself into a warm pillow snuggled behind her back. Regina felt such a heated presence beside her and took the blanket off, draping it over the blonde. She tucked it around the woman as she began to drift off into a light sleep. Regina let her rest against her side, the hot puffs of Emma's breath frolicking along her neckline.

Suddenly, a sharp buzz came into the room. It was Regina's phone, which startled Emma awake. She leapt away to the other side of the lounge, sheepish and embarrassed, the intoxicating scent of Regina's perfume still gracing her senses.

"It's Henry," the older woman said, looking at the screen.

"Answer it," Emma urged, wiping at her eyes.

Regina had her heart in her mouth when she pressed the answer-button. 'Henry? Is everything okay?'

A throng of deadened sound came through the line before an obscure plea reached her ear. 'You have to pick me up.'


	3. The Rose Tree

Notes: _Slightly shorter (since Christmas holidays) but much longer one next._

* * *

><p><span><strong>III. The Rose Tree<strong>

"What's wrong?" Regina asked her son feverishly.

Emma propped herself up on the lounge, having sprung awake at the call, half-dazed and groaning, "What's he saying?"

The other woman put a finger to her lips in order to hush the blonde. "Henry…" she continued. "You have to tell me what's going on."

There was a moment of silence before a tiny crackling sound was heard on the other end of the line. "It's just…" He paused and broke up a little.

Regina sat up on her knees. "Henry!"

"I think I'm in trouble."

"With who?" she interrogated.

Emma scratched the back of her head and yelled out across the lounge, "He didn't get drunk or something did he?"

"No!" Regina snapped at her. "Henry, are you drunk?" she said quietly into the speaker.

"I'm not drunk," he retorted. "I'm in the woods."

"I don't know what's worse!" his mother bleated angrily. "And why would you be in the woods at this time of night?"

"I am…" The sound of another boy shouting at the top of his lungs came through the line. "Sorry, we're kind of lost."

Emma kneeled on a pillow and leaned into Regina's side, shoving her face into the phone. "Henry, look for the main road. It's on a peaked hill. We'll meet you there."

He was somewhat surprised at hearing her voice. "Ok," he mumbled.

She hit the hang-up button. Regina edged backward and glared at her, nearly fuming. "What are you doing?"

"There's no use trying to get information out of him now. Let's go." She staggered up off the lounge and began walking towards the entrance hall, grabbing a pair of keys on her way.

Regina froze.

"Are you coming?" the sheriff asked.

"Yes," she sputtered. "I am."

* * *

><p>"We'll take my car," Emma said as they walked out into the garden, body jarred by the cold air.<p>

She turned around and saw Regina had wrapped the same blanket from the lounge around her shoulders, head buried in its layers that draped down to the grass.

"Yes, well, it's easier to spot," the older woman responded.

Emma pursed her lips. "Feeling comfortable there?"

"You think I'm _comfortable_ to be out on a midnight search for my son?" She lumbered through the garden. "Perhaps we should call the authorities."

"I _am_ the authorities," Emma grunted as they approached the car. "Or was that just a cheap dig?"

They climbed in, an answer ungiven.

Regina was scowling as the engine started, the yellow vehicle rolling away from the mansion, black mist fogging up its windows. "I knew that _Jack_ was up to no good."

They began driving towards the forest. Emma turned the windscreen wipers on.

"Then why'd you let Henry over there?"

A slow rhythm started beating like a soft drum against the smog.

"Because…he really wanted to go." She huddled into the blanket.

"Usually kids seem okay at first, but they could easily turn out to be troublesome," Emma said light-heartedly.

"And what do you know about kids?"

She could only laugh at the slap-in-the-face, clearly rising from bitterness towards Henry's whereabouts. "Well, I used to _be_ one, and so did you, in some land a million years ago," she countered as they turned a corner.

"I'm not that old," Regina murmured into the fleece.

"You didn't have any no-good friends back then?"

She looked out the window, the sky an ocean of black and blue, remnants of grey cloud sprinkled across lined treetops. The woods weren't far.

"I didn't have many friends at all."

Emma glanced over with curiosity. "Why not?"

"My mother," she explained. "Cora shielded everyone and everything from me."

A wave of quiet thrummed amidst the windscreen wipers, ebbing in the midnight air.

"Neither did I," Emma said.

"Neither did you…have many friends?"

"I had one," she corrected. "For a moment. But no others, not really. People came and went in my life. Everything was temporary."

"I long for the temporary," Regina mused, shuffling in her seat. "I've been cooped up doing the same thing for years on end. It's draining."

Emma sneered. "Hey, we've had some great adventures together."

"And turmoil."

"That's okay."

They drove around another corner, arriving at the main road that weaved through the woods. It was wide and besieged by tall trees on either side, green monsters, which reached up high into the mist.

"This won't be temporary," Regina said gently.

"What won't be?"

She looked over at the blonde. "You can stay as long as you like. With Henry and me."

Emma smiled, her hands gripping tighter on the wheel. "Okay."

Regina began looking for Henry on the side of the road. The trails were dark and figures were hard to make out, but she squinted her eyes and searched desperately for any sign of her son.

"Well then I'll give you some temporary escapades," Emma overstated.

Regina was muddled at the comment. "And how will you do that?"

The other woman's eyes flickered, fishing for answers. "I can surprise you. Take you places. I can get you out of your comfort zone, push your limits."

"You _already_ push my limits," she chuckled.

"I guess I'm already doing alright then."

"Fine," Regina drawled, her hand reaching out inadvertently to touch Emma's shoulder. "Deal."

"Deal."

They came to an intersection where there was a clearing in the trees. "Oh, there they are," piped the sheriff, catching sight of a few silhouettes stumbling through the leaves.

"Henry!" Regina called out, rolling down the window. "We're here!"

The teenager was slightly hazy and put a hand over his eyes as he saw the car driving alongside them, lights beaming across the road. They halted and Regina opened the door. She stepped out into the cold and saw their faces more clearly through the trees, Henry's guilt, Jack staggering behind, another two scruffy boys and a dainty girl lingering beside them.

"What on earth is going on here?" she hissed as the mob approached.

"Please, can we all just go home?" Henry muttered, embarrassed at the sight of his second mother getting out of the car as well.

"Not a chance," Emma said as she joined Regina. They glared at him disappointedly.

His cheeks were dotted with colours of ash and wood and loose leaves were stuck to his clothes. He sighed as he confessed.

"We snuck out."

"For what purpose?" Regina probed.

"Bonfire," Jack interjected solemnly. "Some lumberjack thought we were too loud. Scared us off. Then we got lost."

"Thanks a lot," Henry grilled his friend.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Come on," she said, wrapping an arm around Henry's shoulders and coaxing him to the car.

Regina couldn't believe what she was hearing. Although, she managed to get her phone out to call Jack's parents, despite his pleading for her to not. They waited for the arrival, minty breeze skimming raw over coats and wintry airspace.

Henry was sitting with his knees up to his chest in the back seat of the car, looking out at his friends who were meandering along the side of the road.

"Hey," Emma snapped, turning around in her seat. "I don't know why you would partake in something like this. You could've all been killed."

"It was just a harmless old guy," he retaliated. "Didn't do anything but freak us out."

"A bonfire in the woods? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

Henry sunk his head back and closed his eyes. "The fire didn't work anyway. It's too wet," he grumbled.

"I don't care," Emma told him. "I have no sympathy for whatever kind of reckless party Jack was setting up."

He groaned even more as he saw his other mother open the door and sit in the front. "Everyone else thinks it's fine."

"If everyone else decided to jump off a cliff, would you too?" Regina scorned. She looked out the window, anxiously awaiting Jack's parents.

"Maybe."

She leant against the glass, breath making white circles of heat on its surface. "Your mother and I are very upset, Henry."

The teenager opened his eyes and sat forward, knees bouncing manically. "Well, I'm sorry about that."

"I hope you are," Emma said soberly. "Next time this happens, I'll throw you in a cell."

He shook his head in disbelief, smirking at the statement. "You can't be serious, can you?"

"Dead serious," Regina chimed in.

"Maybe not so serious," Emma laughed softly. "Punishment has the possibility to be very creative. How would you feel about working off your debt to society through service?"

"I don't _have_ a debt to society," he hurled back. "Come on, it was just a harmless walk in the woods."

They spotted a blue truck driving down the main road behind them.

"I have a feeling that Mary Margaret needs an assistant at the mayor's office," she intoned. "During afternoons and weekends."

"Indeed," Regina hummed, turning around and raising her eyebrows at her son. "Such tiresome paperwork doesn't do itself. Perhaps you could even handle deliveries, scheduling, the mail…"

A light bulb flicked on in Emma's head now. "Perfect," she said.

"No," Henry fussed. "I don't want to spend time there. It's boring."

The boy had an intrepid heart, which ticked at every chance for romp and zest. The only adequate punishment for birds is to cage them.

"You don't have a choice," Regina disciplined him, pushing the door open to greet those in the truck approaching.

Jack clumped over with the other few nomads in the dark, road only illuminated by vehicle-lights.

"Where is he?" Jack's mother shouted as she jumped out of the car. "What happened?"

Regina followed his parents over and began to explain what they'd told her.

"I really didn't know this was going on," she continued, certifying to the woman that she believed the two were in the house beforehand.

"It's quite alright," Regina responded, having half-calmed-down now. "I suppose I'll leave you to it."

"Yes," she panted, grabbing a hold of Jack's arm. "Oh, and these are our neighbours," she added, pointing at the others.

Regina put her hands in her pockets. Grazed her heels against the asphalt. "Looks like you won't have enough seats in there."

"Unfortunately not."

She peered back at Emma's car. Her eyes were sleepy but she still managed to offer some assistance. "We can follow you."

"Oh," the woman sighed thankfully. "That'd be great."

"No problem."

Jack's mother walked around the truck. "This is Aster," she introduced.

The girl lingering from before had dirt stains in her bronze-coloured hair. She mumbled a hello as she came forward.

"Hello," Regina greeted back. "Mind coming with us?"

"Sure," she droned, worn out from the ordeal in the woods. She looked about a year older than Henry.

Regina bid the others goodbye and led Aster to the car. Henry was practically lying down along the back seat and Emma was humming a song under her breath.

She cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Henry."

Aster waited outside the window. He sprung up and dragged a hand through his messy hair. "I…" he stuttered as he opened the passenger door. "I didn't know you were coming with us."

"Neither did I," she accorded, planting herself down next to him as his mother went into the front.

"Ready to go?" Emma asked as they all buckled up.

"Yes," Regina said. "You'll have to follow the truck."

The sheriff looked over at her before starting the engine. "Are you okay?"

"Yes…" she exhaled jadedly. "I'm simply fatigued."

"_You're_ fatigued?"

"Well, _you_ better not be," she groused. "You're driving and I'd rather not crash into a tree trunk tonight."

Emma let out a heavy breath of forced laughter. "I'm fine. Henry's lack of sense has woken me right up."

"Hey," he fought as the car turned around and began to follow the vehicle in front. "I made a mistake."

"You shouldn't be rude in front of your friend," Emma muttered in low undertones.

Henry crossed his arms, refusing to look at Aster. His mothers were chuckling in the front seats.

"That's true," Regina added, smiling against the cool air.

"Is it?" he grouched mockingly.

"Yes."

"Very," Emma reinforced.

Henry looked at Aster apologetically. It was exceedingly quiet during the ride back.

* * *

><p>When they pulled up beside the house, the two teenagers couldn't wait to get out of such silent stuffiness. The property was large and green, a line of flowerbeds in the front garden and a dog barking behind a side-gate.<p>

"You have cool mums," she giggled as they stepped away from the car.

He grinned and looked at the pavement while walking. "Nah…"

"No, you're lucky," she persisted. "My parents got divorced when I was really young. My two brothers are actually half-brothers. It's complicated. Anyway, I still hope that they can love each other like that again."

"Like what?" he questioned.

They trudged through the dewy grass of the front lawn, shoulders grazing.

"Like yours do," she accentuated, stopping him at the front door.

"Oh," he dissolved into laugher. "They aren't together. We just live together."

She paused, almost searching for a resolution in her head. "I don't understand."

"It's complicated too," he told her. "I'll explain it to you one day."

Aster took his hand gingerly and giggled. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p>"They're gossiping like two teenage girls," Regina groaned, tapping on the glass impatiently.<p>

Emma narrowed her eyes through the window and saw a glimpse of the handholding. "Just give it a second."

"It's already been five minutes!" She tugged on Emma's sleeve. "I can't wait until the sun rises."

"Well I think it's cute," Emma remarked, pulling her arm away from the other woman. "They might kiss."

"They'll kiss over my dead body."

"Regina," she said playfully. "I'm joking. He knows we're watching him."

Henry said goodbye to the girl before she closed the front door behind her. He waited for a moment, straying around the porch before walking back to the car.

"What was that?" Emma asked suggestively as he fell back onto the seat.

"It was nothing. I don't know what you're talking about. We're just friends." He was blabbering to himself.

"Henry, you're being all kinds of childish tonight," Regina cut in. "I'm driving you to the mayor's office first thing tomorrow."

He whined, "But you don't even know if Mary Margaret works on Sundays."

"Either way, you're still going to spend the day there."

Emma grazed her cheek against the misted window and meditated on what co-parenting actually looked like. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea how Regina had raised Henry all these years, not _really_. Despite the discipline, their relationship was very at ease. Emma was still searching for that.

* * *

><p>Henry was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. The sonorous jet of tap water whirred through the hallway.<p>

Emma was sitting on the stairs, looking at her phone. When the boy finally went to bed, Regina ensconced herself down next to her on the cool surface, leaning against the railing. The blonde didn't flinch.

"You aren't tired?" she asked her.

"Nope," Emma decided, eyes scrolling down the screen.

Regina rested her elbows on the step behind her. "Would you like a drink, Ms Swan?"

The sheriff paused and placed her phone down on the floor beside her. She let out a long sigh and turned to face the other woman. "Please," she said, fluttering her eyelids. "Don't ever call me that again."

"Why not?"

"Because…" She gently shook her head, unable to come to a conclusion.

"I like it. It sounds like I have authority over you," Regina chuckled, stroking a hand along the bars of the railing.

Emma sighed again, the dark hours of the morning dampening her system. "Do you like having authority over me?"

"Sometimes."

"I can hear you two!" Henry called out from his room, voice muffled against the door.

They collapsed into a hum of laughter at the top of the staircase.

"Go to sleep!" Emma shouted back.

Regina rested her head in her hands. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea–"

The blonde cut her off. "You know what? I could actually really go for a cup of hot cocoa right now."

She smiled before standing up, reaching out a hand to Emma's and ushering her to a stance. "Alright then."

* * *

><p>Regina guided her into the study and with a flick of the hand and a puff of blue smoke, a steaming cup of cocoa appeared on the table.<p>

"That's cheating," said Emma as they took their seats on opposite lounges, looking at each other with both hesitance and urgency.

"It is not."

She picked up the mug and took a sip, the spice of cinnamon fizzing on her tastebuds.

"How is it?" Regina asked contemptuously.

She let the liquid trickle down her throat before answering begrudgingly. "It's perfect…"

"That's what I thought."

Emma lay down across the lounge and rested her head on a pillow. She blinked slowly and cast the mug back onto the table. "It scares me a bit, you know. Henry growing up."

"It scares me too; things like this happen and I don't know what to think," Regina pondered, resting her hands in her lap.

"I guess that just because Henry's special it doesn't exempt him from being a normal kid."

The blonde's eyelids were becoming lax now. And Regina wavered for a minute, the sensation of their first meeting as Saviour and Queen in that study burning gloomily in the air, before leaping onto her feet and leaving the room.

Emma snuggled into the pillow. "Come back."

"I am," she quietened, voice low outside the door.

Regina did come back, a blanket hanging over her arm.

"Here," she whispered, draping it lightly over the other woman.

Emma said nothing. Her skin mellowed sleepily, the homeliness of the study like a mild sanctuary. Regina's presence was this familiar warmth, a contiguous solace, which was more like a home than the mansion could ever be.


	4. Grey Sunday

Notes:_ I'll definitely be doing some daybreak after IV, rather than just logging day-to-day happenings. I'm still working around timing issues. Additional to this–despite enjoying the story's progression, focusing on domesticity and what not–I'll be working out the length + content of its entirety so hopefully it'll have better direction soon._

* * *

><p><span><strong>IV. Grey Sunday<strong>

The truck came to a skidding halt on the road outside the mayor's office. Fog had continued until morning, giving birth to a day shelled within a veil of mist and rain, damp air, a limitation on seeing depth and distance throughout the town. The white smoke lingered by the vehicle as Mary Margaret and David looked at each other tiredly.

"A few days at Regina's and Henry is already in trouble?" he queried.

"I don't think it has anything to do with Emma moving in."

Mary Margaret had been recruited to the office in the middle of a grey Sunday. In actuality, she had planned to drop in during the afternoon already, yet something about Regina urging her to supervise the teenager fed her distaste. 'Supervise' wasn't exactly how she'd put it, but the woman was positively worn out from floating on so many duties that any extra baggage would sink the boat.

"So, Henry is grounded with you?"

She buttoned her coat before reaching for the door handle. "The thing is, I _do_ need an assistant."

"Lucky him," he quipped. "Feeling the wrath of both his mothers _and _his grandmother."

Mary Margaret gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before checking her hair in the mirror. "The only _wrath_ he'll be feeling is the amount of filing I've yet to do."

David smiled at his wife as she stepped out of the truck and breathed in the drizzly air.

"Have fun," he called.

"Yes. Of course."

Her new son's sleeping patterns weren't exactly getting any easier to deal with at night. It left the mayor seeking placidity wherever she went, and gave her a new outlook on motherhood. By the time she had walked up to the office, Regina and Henry were already there, roving around the furniture.

"Good afternoon," she greeted from across the office.

The room was, after the curse and upon Mary Margaret's ordainment, ornamented with the very trinkets and artworks that seared Regina to the core. She gawked at the absolute failure on the mayor's part; her interior design skills were definitely not up to scratch. The flowers and trees and bluebirds on the walls turned the place into a forest-themed nightmare. Regina had already suffered one of those.

Mary Margaret spotted the paperwork she had been dreading all morning, expressing a shy confession through her eyes that she wasn't up to Regina's previous standards of organisation. Didn't like the prying though.

"Ready to work, Henry?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he droned, gazing out the window at the rain.

His mother patted him on the arm. "I'll be back in a few hours." She then made headway for the door. "Try to be productive."

"I _am_ productive," Mary Margaret gulped, offended.

The other woman sighed. "I was talking about Henry."

"Oh," she exhaled, relieved. "For a second I thought you were questioning my diligence."

Regina rolled her eyes and as she neared the exit, mumbled, "I always am."

* * *

><p>Emma woke up with her head buried under a quilt. It was tucked beneath her back and even draped over her feet – <em>real professional<em>, she thought, before ambling to check the time. She was so warm and cosy and also a little guilty for conking out on the lounge in Regina's study, like a child, or a drunkard. Regardless, she peeped at the symbol of 12:00 flashing on her phone and once again groggily prayed that neither her son nor the Queen herself would be waiting outside in the living room.

However, as she maundered out there, she noticed another beeping on the screen: a message from Ruby. The waitress needed to borrow the sheriff's car. And she wanted her company for a lunch date at midday.

_Sure_, Emma replied. _Be right there._

The clock was already ticking past noon.

She stumbled into a pair of dark jeans and a flannel shirt, jacket over the top. The cold was coasting into the mansion, and so was the realisation that her housemates were nowhere to be seen. She didn't particularly enjoy waking up alone, without feeling surrounded by family members at first light. Especially since the night before still seemed so close to her.

Until, she spotted a handwritten note on the dining table.

_Took Henry to the office_.

Heartfelt.

Emma eventually got to her car, boots slipping on blue puddles, and began heading off in the direction of Granny's. After all, Ruby was already expecting her, and she promised she wouldn't work that Sunday.

* * *

><p>"Hey," the waitress saluted, off-duty.<p>

The blonde saw her from the doorway and weaved her way through a circle of townspeople, before joining the woman in a booth.

She started fiddling with a menu. "Hey."

"You look dreadful," Ruby said.

"No I don't."

She laughed out loud and kicked Emma's ankle under the table. The diner was buzzing with customers coming in packs for lunch. The bar was in full swing; the sound of the door's bell was ringing open and closed against a palely heard music in the background.

"I didn't have much sleep," the sheriff muttered, blindly waving at a waitress.

"Why not?"

The woman came over with a notepad and pen. Took orders of coffee and meals for both.

"Long story. Basically…" She gave the menus to the waitress and rested her hands on her knees. "Henry wanted to stay overnight at a friend's house, but they snuck out for some sort of gathering in the woods so–"

"What?" Ruby interjected.

Emma only just registered how profoundly bizarre the whole thing was. "Regina and I had to track them down and get him home. He's enduring his punishment right now."

Her friend put her elbows on the table. "Wow. I knew the kid was sneaky, but, wow."

She nodded in agreement, because truthfully, there had been perfect past evidence that he had that kind of secretive streak.

"What's the punishment?"

"He's being Mary Margaret's assistant," she said. "We're submerging him in boredom."

The diner was becoming even more clamorous, the miners having their lunch break, various citizens of Storybrooke entering the establishment with dripping umbrellas and soggy boots from the rain, wiping feet on the mat and hanging up frosty coats. Anyone would think that the residue of the Snow Queen's curse was still running rampant in the town, but none of them were going to fuss about tragedy now.

"Well…" Ruby drawled. "He isn't a train wreck. Just a teenager."

"I guess. Anyway, what's going on with you?"

Her eyes became earnest. "I've mostly been trying to comfort Belle over the, I guess, _banishment_ of her husband."

Emma shrugged. "Still heartbroken?"

"Can you even imagine?"

They looked at each other, brows high and insinuating.

"Nope," Emma stated amidst the silent agreement that it was a miserable occurrence. "Besides, I'm holding off on any kind of relationship for now."

"And why is that?" Ruby chuckled, finding it hard to believe. "You want to be a lone wolf like me?"

"No," she countered, grinning slyly and glancing around for the waitress. "Because I'm focusing on my son."

"But your true love is _already_ Henry," Ruby emphasised. "Surely you have room for one more in your life."

"Well, Regina."

"Regina?"

"I don't know," Emma whined and sunk her head into her palms. "I'm meant to be helping to create some sort of happy ending for her."

"You are? Why?"

She circled her fingertips around the skin of her temples, unsure of everything. "I have no time anymore."

"You know what?" Ruby asserted, up front and eager. "I think you should stop worrying. You've got it pretty good."

"Yeah, I do."

And she most definitely did, especially since she was now living under the same roof as two of the most important people in her life. Yet the question of her own happy ending struck her slightly, and then all at once, almost that she didn't even unravel the concept before then, hearing the bustling diner hum with people who were all searching for that fundamental dream.

"So do you think you can have more than one true love?" she questioned.

Ruby tapped on the table and answered, "Probably not."

"How come?"

Emma was making those puppy-dog eyes at her, which only brought out another giggle. "Are you prone to falling in love too easily, sheriff?"

The waitress arrived at the booth with their food and drink.

"No," she said, drawing a mug of coffee to her lips.

"I can see where Henry gets his secretive streak from."

"I'm not secretive."

"That's exactly what a secretive person would say."

Emma scoffed and picked up her fork, twisting it in her hand. "And what else would a secretive person say?"

"That they don't have a weird fixation on their son's adoptive mother." Ruby's eyes glistened.

"That's crazy," the blonde spoke through a forkful of food. "_You're_ crazy."

"Am I?"

The clinking sound of Granny's door opening came into the space when a group of merry men ploughed through the entrance, scruffy and goading.

"I don't have a fixation," Emma huffed quietly but surely.

"Whatever," Ruby dismissed. "I don't think I'll ever get through to you. You're as transparent as a brick wall."

Emma was preparing for a lecture, but all of a sudden, Will Scarlet appeared above them, and didn't seem to be going away. "_Aye_, what's going on here?"

They glared at each other after spotting his self-evident intoxication. Beer was in hand. Gesturing grotesquely at the merry men. Looking for trouble.

"Private conversation," Ruby told him.

He leaned on the side of the booth for balance and pointed at the sheriff. "I'm in a bit of a _quandary_," he slurred, gripping the back of the seat.

She looked at him and groaned, "What do you want?"

"You see," he began blunderingly, "Granny over there isn't too happy with me."

"I bet I can guess why," Ruby cut in, scrunching up her nose.

Will glanced over at the bar where Granny was conversing with customers before looking back at the two women.

"You haven't paid for your drinks, have you?" she persisted, having dealt with the predicament many a time in the diner.

He gurgled before blabbing, "Yes. All many of them."

"So you have or you haven't?" Emma interrogated. "I swear if you run off and force me to arrest you when I'm off-duty–"

"Happened before, didn't it?" he intervened, laughing drunkenly. "But don't judge a cover by its book."

The sheriff blinked slowly, face turning sour.

"Alright, alright, alright," he repeated before an explanation. "I thought I'd take off what's owed with a bit of friendly competition. Told Granny I'd play against a gentleman at darts for the pay and she said: only if I play the best competitor."

"Yes, so you'd lose and pay the damn tab yourself," Ruby muttered.

Will's eyes widened. "Or, it could be payed by the one and only Sheriff Swan if she so cared to join me."

"Emma's no _gentleman_," Ruby said insistently. "She'll beat you in a second."

"Wanna bet?"

The blonde fidgeted aimlessly with her cutlery before devising an answer. She enjoyed the compliment, although was already aware of her prowess when it came to darts. Not even the merry men could surpass her aim, and, most obviously, not Will Scarlet. He was waiting eagerly, pupils dilating and dashing back and forth between the two friends, who certainly didn't sign up for this.

"Fine," she announced, pushing her near-finished plate back. "I'll do it."

Ruby cast her an uneasy look, silently withdrawing her previous confidence.

Will shouted something incomprehensible with a fist high in the air before scooting over to the crowd by the far wall.

"I have full confidence that I won't have to pay whatever expensive debt he owes this place," she mused.

He knew she would agree after a period of time, especially since they had already established an informal rivalry, its genesis at the sheriff station, and its intrigue continuing when he joked about Mary Margaret and Emma being married. It was an absurd web of relationships, always prone to be made fun of.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ruby asked. "You don't know the amount _and_ it's stupid."

The saviour gave her a peachy smile, which dismissed the hesitancy.

* * *

><p>"Emma Swan. I trust you know the scoring. The merry men will keep tally."<p>

Will was beaming but red-faced from the alcohol, unable to realise that the band of forest-dwellers were hardly fit for the art of mathematics. Nevertheless, nothing could shake the sheriff's confidence when she stepped up to the plate, within the crowded corner of Granny's, filled with stinking men and the sounds of those animals in the airspace.

They double-checked the tally system, and then the game was underway, Ruby watching closely from the sidelines.

"How much was it?" she asked Granny with a whisper.

"You don't want to know," the owner answered.

By the time Will was catching up with his score, Emma realised she'd have to focus more around the hubbub if she wanted a clean win. No distractions. _Enter the void_.

But next, the diner was packed in even further, another group of townspeople wandering in. Among them was a temperate creature, a woman of poise and presence. Regina, was, also, half-soaked from the rain and strolled towards the bar for a drink. The trials of yesterday hadn't exactly been peaceful, and she was looking for an emotional break.

Yet even Regina Mills couldn't catch one before glimpsing Emma on the far side of the diner, throwing flimsy darts at a board with a circle of men surrounding her, cheering, waving, shouting.

"One more, one more!" Will exclaimed, beer still in hand.

The blonde nudged his shoulder and laughed, ascending into her element and doing it beautifully. The former mayor watched her challenge him and finally conquer. And afterwards, Emma grabbed the open beer from his hand and drank it, taunting him, leaving him alone with his debt. After a while she felt Regina's eyes on her.

Will rubbed at his face and shrugged. "Not bad for a lass."

"That's right," Ruby broke in, seizing Emma's arm, the saviour still laughing quietly.

Granny stepped in after, demanding that he pay that instant.

And Ruby brought her friend back to the booth where they recovered from the raucousness.

"Shit," Emma swore as she looked back over at the quarrel between Will and Granny. "This isn't going to end well."

"Does it ever?"

Even then just sinking into the booth, she still felt magnetised to Regina across the diner, and couldn't help but excuse herself from Ruby to go and talk to her. As she went over, it almost felt like being with Regina was her natural instinct, and everything else was supplementary.

The brunette eyed her as she approached, Emma's shirt stained with drops of brown liquor but smiling.

Meanwhile, Will was shouting from the other end of the bar.

Before she could turn back to focus on her, he was running past the blonde, shoving her into the counter and racing for the door.

"Ugh," she groaned, pushing herself off the bench.

"Are you okay, dear?"

Without responding, Emma was threading her way through the customers and dashing out the door after him. She ran behind, circling around the block where he was headed. He was a clumsy athlete, staggering side-to-side and eventually bumping into a fence. She almost had the thief, and a whole bunch of onlookers, before she abruptly rounded a corner and bolted headfirst into the pole of a street sign.

Will turned around, chuckled, and scurried away.

Ruby came sprinting out after her and knelt down on the pavement, Emma's head spinning and a red bruise clouding up her forehead.

"Careful," she said, holding onto the blonde.

Emma mumbled something and reached out her fingertips, brushing them over a temple.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"Yes," she muttered dizzily. "Where's Scarlet?"

"Not important."

She groaned and held onto Ruby's hand, letting herself be slowly towed upward, leaning into the woman.

"Come on," she consoled her. "Let's get you some ice."

Regina had watched the chase from the window. She was waiting at the door of Granny's, wondering what the hell just happened. When Ruby explained it, they took her to the laundry-room. Emma grudgingly sat on top of the washing machine, nearly dying of embarrassment.

"I'm _fine_," she grouched.

"No, you're not." Ruby fetched some ice wrapped in a washcloth and came back.

The sheriff squinted and felt the bruise along her forehead, body jolting at her own touch.

"I don't want you to see me like this," she told Regina. "Go away."

"Oh, stop it," the older woman said, snatching the cloth off Ruby. "I've seen you in far worse conditions."

Ruby edged back for a moment, opening her mouth to speak but hesitating before she did so. "I…" she coughed. "I'm going to leave you to it."

Regina nodded. She looked back at Emma and heard the other woman leave the room.

"No you haven't," the blonde argued grumpily.

She smirked and went over to close a window, grey droplets of rain sprinkling in with the cold. "Yes, I have."

Emma sat forward on the machine, kicking her heels into its front.

"For example," Regina continued, moving between Emma's legs and holding up the ice to her forehead, "this morning, when I checked to see if you were still asleep in my study."

"Hmm," Emma groaned, flinching at the cool sensation flooding all over the bruise. "You're saying I look ugly when I sleep?"

"Exactly," the other woman teased.

She put the cloth down and waved a hand over the sheriff's face. With a puff of purple magic, the swelling redness was gone.

"Great!" Emma said, motioning to get down from the washer.

"Not so fast." She pinned her hands down on the woman's thighs. "Magic may take away the injury, but certainly not the dizziness."

The room was darkly lit, and the sound of winter rain became a soothing melody against the window-glass. Emma breathed heavily when she felt Regina's hands move up her jawline to cup her cheeks.

"_Do_ you feel dizzy?"

She let herself hear the cooing of voices muffle against the laundry-room door and decided she didn't want to get out of there so quickly. "A little."

"I thought so," Regina whispered smugly.

The blonde couldn't help but smile, only she immediately then wanted conversation, wanted anything. "How was Henry this morning?"

"He's surviving, I think."

"You think?"

"Well, we'll see about that."

"Isn't it funny?" Emma pondered, slumping. "How I'm an amazing sorceress but I still run into street signs?"

"Happens to the best of us." Regina looked up at the saviour perched above her. "Although, I wouldn't call you a sorceress just yet."

She dismissed the comment and tapped a hand on the washing machine beside her. "Come here."

Regina scoffed but eventually pulled herself up onto the surface, shoulder-to-shoulder with the other woman.

"I wanted to ask you something," she continued. "Actually, I want to ask you a lot of things."

"Yes, I know," the brunette droned. "I'm better at magic than you, I _get_ that."

"Not about magic," Emma retorted.

"Then what? My fashion sense? My mothering talent?"

The sheriff laughed and leaned into her, careful not to push her off the machine completely. "Yes," she said in between puffs of wavering breath. "All of those things."

"Well, as Henry says," she responded gingerly, "We have a lifetime for that."

"I guess."

Emma's senses calmed during that quiet moment when they sat in that laundry-room together, smiling side-by-side, listening to the rain and daydreaming of things that were yet to come. And it was pleasant then, with neither movement nor activity, without tension or the need to ask Regina everything about her life, this one and the former.

It was during then that their hands brushed against one another, fingertips grazing along the surface where they lay. Regina didn't recoil or resist contact, for she could feel Emma's warmth and impulse spurring up from the touch. They stayed there until the unruly noises of the diner hushed, the cacophony of lunchtime was over and the afternoon ripened. It took a while before the sheriff's light-headedness drifted away, but in the meantime they would ignore the clock and lean into each other's laughter.

And when Emma would ask Regina whether she needed to pick up Henry yet, she'd answer, "No, just a moment longer."

* * *

><p>"This wasn't in the job description," Henry grumbled while he swept the floor with a broom.<p>

"Maybe you shouldn't have snuck out in the first place," Mary Margaret countered from behind her desk.

"It's unfair," he advanced. "You all spent these years being bandits and outlaws and royals and pirates, but I'm stuck here, _sweeping_."

"Calm down Cinderella," she quipped. "You've done a fair amount for your age."

He swept everything into a dustpan and put it in one corner, then reached up to dust the furniture.

Mary Margaret was mentally exhausted, but at least with her new assistant, it was less exhaustion than usual. "You've been great today, regardless," she told him. "I'll tell your mothers that."

The teenager kept dusting in silence.

"What did you do in the woods last night?" she probed further, closing her paperwork.

He turned around slowly and glared, eyes bright but wary. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," she said. "If it didn't, you wouldn't have gone."

The mayor had a point. Henry had been so cautious of betraying his mothers' trust before he agreed to Jack's plan on the previous night. It was a hard decision to make, but he ultimately didn't believe he'd get caught.

"It _doesn't_," he reinforced.

"You used to tell me everything when I was your teacher."

She noticed his trepidation, which she came to understand wasn't about the night itself, but about the aftermath. Henry so desperately wanted his family to live in harmony, and he hadn't been playing the part. Something about growing up he wasn't ready for, and something about a future with both his mothers turned everything upside-down.

"I'll tell you some other time grandma."

Mary Margaret sniggered and stood up from her desk, hearing a car horn beep outside the office.

* * *

><p>"You can't just summon him," Regina hissed from the driver's seat, batting away Emma's hand from reaching over at the wheel.<p>

"I can't be bothered to go up there," she complained, having violently slammed her fist against the horn. "I'm concussed, remember?"

"You're coming."

"Make me."

The blonde was stubborn, which Regina came to understand was a glowing fault in her otherwise faultless, but goofy charm.

"Fine, suit yourself," she chuckled, prior to hopping out of the car and shutting the door behind her.

* * *

><p>"Had a nice afternoon, Henry?" his mother questioned as she stepped into the mayor's office.<p>

"Wasn't so bad," he replied. "I've learnt my lesson."

Regina shook her head. "Not so fast. I'm taking you here after school tomorrow."

Mary Margaret grinned and told her, "He truly was helpful."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Oh, and don't forget to bring some things for the bake sale tomorrow."

The mayor had set up a charity fair at Henry's school for the next day, where children were expected to participate in raising money.

"Henry, you didn't tell me about this," Regina uttered.

A look of guilt washed over his face. "Sorry, I forgot."

"There's still time to bake something, but no cheating," Mary Margaret beamed.

"Well, I guess I _can_ put your cooking skills to the test after all," Regina told her son.

* * *

><p>When it was late, Regina sent Henry straight to bed before he could get any chance at baking for the next day. It wasn't <em>too <em>late, but she had built up such an alpha mentality around her son's school that she didn't want to be the only parent who wasn't going to participate in–what was it–charity? Regardless, it'd look awful, so she had no choice other than to whip up some things before she herself went to bed.

Unfortunately there was no way to exist in the mansion anymore without Emma inquiring into whatever she was doing, and therefore she only had to wait patiently for the moment when the blonde would turn up and ask a million questions. Having already trailed off for grocery supplies, Emma was making a ton of phone calls, so much so that Regina wondered whether she was a secret agent in disguise. Made calls to Ruby about fetching her car in the morning, Mary Margaret, David and the rest of the criminology team by the looks of it.

Late nights were becoming their thing, which they had joked about in the car and over dinner. Because Emma was still in her room, sprawled across the bed, phone in one hand and the other one scribbling on a notepad with a pencil. She had kissed Henry goodnight and while it wasn't so late that the morning was upon them, it edged on a reasonable time to get in enough hours before work the next day. Which, Emma simply had to sustain.

Regina had put a few trays in the oven and was wiping down the bench with a cloth. She laughed timidly to herself when she remembered the sight of Emma heading straight into that sign-pole in the afternoon, which she pretended she hadn't seen.

When Emma finally came down the stairs, just as it had been predicted, she had to remind the saviour to stop eating all the chocolate chips from the packet. Emma apologised, drawing away with a secret handful of them. And Emma had to remind Regina to check the oven, for she became so easily entrenched in the sheriff's clumsy mishaps that she was lost in the evening for minutes at a time.

"I don't want this to be our thing," the younger woman finally said.

Regina was leaning down in front of the oven, wearing an apron, checking the timing. "Late nights?"

"Late nights," Emma echoed, "I don't want them."

"Then what _do_ you want to be our thing?" She was playing the game, stringing the blonde along, while she pretended not to see her snatch at the chocolate chips again.

The woman had decided to sit on the kitchen counter, taking quite a liking to the position above Regina, leaning against the cupboards. "Everything."

"Everything?" she repeated back to Emma guilefully.

"Yes," the woman confirmed as she arched her spine and stretched out her arms with a yawn. "Everything."

She said it since she couldn't think of one aspect of their relationship that could categorise it. Emma had been on the phone to Ruby regarding the matter for an hour-long talk, that it was more than just friendship. That it was something deeper she couldn't quite come to terms with. There were many things she took the responsibility to handle in Storybrooke, but her feelings were not one of them.

"I thought Henry was our thing," Regina continued after a wave of silence, leaving the trays out to cool.

"You're right," she concurred. "He is, but he wasn't the only reason I wanted to stay here more than anywhere else."

"My house _is_ better than anywhere else," the older woman chuckled.

Emma looked downwards and smiled. "Yes, it is…" She coasted her fingertips along the cool edge of the bench, inhaling the scent of chocolate and raspberry and cream. "I would have offered to help, but Henry told me you said I was bad at cooking."

"I didn't say that." Regina scrolled back through her memory. There were enough including Emma Swan, but she still cursed Henry in her mind for even bringing it up with his other mother.

"Are you forgetting my superpower? You know I can always tell when you're lying…" The sheriff put her hands on her hips and spoke sternly.

"Oh, come on," the brunette groaned. "We all know your superpower is a little rusty."

"Did you or did you not tell Henry I was useless in the kitchen?"

Regina laughed, "Maybe," then stopped. "I was trying to make a point. Besides, I don't like our son forcing us up against one another."

"Up against?"

"As opponents, yes."

Emma pointed a finger at her in an enlightened manner. "That would never happen."

"And why not?"

"Because it never has," she explained. "Henry's the only reason why we even became civil in the first place."

Regina washed her hands under the sink and then she dried them off with a towel. "So what are all these extra little reasons why you wanted to stay at my house, then?"

Pigments of pink began to rise up on Emma's cheekbones. "They're all compliments, and they're all secret."

"Don't be so childish," she snapped. "Can you get down and untie me?"

The blonde wriggled off the kitchen counter to the floor. She walked over to the sink and began to unravel the tied knot at the back of Regina's apron. "If I wasn't childish, you wouldn't have anyone to taunt all day long," she said low in her ear.

"Taunt?" the woman whispered.

"All the time." Emma unknotted the apron and took a step back from behind her. "I know you love it."

"Oh, I do," Regina chuckled, latching onto the trays one by one before covering them for the fridge. "But only because you make me laugh."

Emma strayed around the kitchen for a minute, with a smile that the other woman couldn't see, but knew was there. The weather had cleared up and the vicinage of the new day was a welcome to the weekly routine.

"I try," she said bashfully, slipping her hands into her pockets.

She had this tender curiosity, like a forbidden and secretly blooming garden, full of magic and miracles and the seduction of happy endings flowering in the night.


	5. Wheatgrass, Fisher Boats, the Den

Notes: _I've realised that much of what I've been writing is rather Emma-centric. So I'll be evening that out soon. Also, this chapter has a little bit more emotional depth than just romance/humour._

* * *

><p><span><strong>V. <strong>**Wheatgrass, Fisher Boats, the Den**

"It'll be a miracle if we figure this out," Emma proclaimed. "But, I say we drop it for now."

David leant in and scanned over the paperwork. "Well, no trace, means no culprit."

"Stupid boat case," she grumbled. "I could be doing better things with my time."

The days they spent lurking around the sheriff station were becoming dull, each of them swamped with work and having had very little sleep.

"Sheriff Swan!" Will called out from the station cell. "I'm thirsty!"

She swivelled around on her chair and stared at him menacingly. "You've got at least another half-hour."

"I can't wait," he cried. "I'm parched!"

A string of theft had landed him there when the sheriffs finally caught the scoundrel earlier on in the week, but he was due for release that afternoon, despite their wanting to keep him behind bars forever.

Emma poured a glass of water from the jug on her desk before trudging over to give it to him.

Will pressed his face against the bars, eyes sullen but sparkling with the promise of escape. "Why's it so hard to get anything done 'round here?"

"What do you mean?" The saviour hovered in front of the cell.

"You _just_ put an ongoing case on standstill," he ridiculed. "Between the naysayer and the girl who runs into signposts, I'd say Storybrooke doesn't stand a chance."

"And yet here you are," Emma deadpanned.

Her father was knee-deep in a pool of resentment for the thief, yet attempted to restrain himself from extending the prisoner's sentence to an eternity.

"One day you'll thank me," Will continued. "For keeping you on your toes."

"Sorry." Emma tilted her chin upwards and gave him a cruel smile. "I don't have time to chase you around all day."

"Too busy chasing someone else around then," he rambled on. "Where'd you say you were going again today? A magic lesson?"

David lifted his gaze from across the room, eyes perking up. His daughter had let it slip beforehand, yet he had forgotten her plans by the time Thursday afternoon came around the bend and everything from baby Neal to Mary Margaret to his sheriff-duties had already turned into a storm.

"Are you still doing that?" he asked, sitting upright behind his desk.

"Yeah," Emma said as she turned around. "Soon, in fact."

Magic always made David anxious, especially when it came to the equation of the Saviour and the Evil Queen together. The first lesson in Neverland was two seconds away from a duel and the second resulted in Emma's near-death. It wasn't that he didn't trust Regina, but magic simply wasn't ever his weapon of choice. After all, he _was_ Prince Charming, a swordfighter at heart.

"I hope it doesn't include a collapsing bridge," he tried to say casually, but failed.

"It's going to be fine," she sighed, walking back over to the desk. "I know what I'm doing."

He gave her a look of trust, but it lacked reassurance. Nonetheless, it was all she could expect from him.

"Can I come?" Will sang out again, this time pacing around in circles within his cell. "Or are only witches allowed?"

"Shut up, Scarlet," David groaned, hitting a palm against his paperwork, and then turning again to his daughter. "How's Regina been, anyway?"

"Great," Emma replied. "Much better."

She said it with such automation that she had to reel back after the words came out. _Much better?_ Sometimes it was hard to see Regina as a person without bitterness, anger or vulnerability. Sometimes preconceptions got the better of her, now that this brave new world was opening up: Regina's future, her happy ending…her freedom. With the demise of Storybrooke's chaos came the emergence of the Regina who Emma knew and enjoyed the company of.

"And Henry's doing well?" David sustained.

"He's been a bit distant during these past few days," she said. "Something's gotten into him."

David stroked a hand over his chin and looked out the station window. The sky was the colour of a green field of grass, its clouds swaying in the wind. "I think you should do something special this weekend, with the both of them."

"Really?" she murmured. "Why?"

"You're family now. It doesn't hurt to start acting like one." He knew all too well about the importance of sticking together in times of drifting distance.

"I guess it'd bring us closer," she pondered for a second, floating into a daze but then flicking back into reality when she remembered that she should probably get going in a minute.

"That's the point," he assured her. "I'm thankful for my family every day. I hope you are too."

Emma grabbed her red jacket from the back of her chair. "I am."

"Hey!" the third voice incanted from the other side of the room. "It's been long enough!"

David grumbled and walked over to the cell, carrying a ring of silver keys. With a few twists in the lock, the prisoner was free and striding through the station towards Emma.

"Let's go," he said eagerly.

"You're not coming," the blonde laughed at him. "Only witches allowed, remember?"

"Suit yourself," he mumbled, slumping his shoulders.

Emma shrugged on the jacket and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Alright, I'm off into the woods."

"Be careful," David cautioned.

Will lifted up a hand. "Can you give me a lift?"

The sheriff griped on the inside about the constant irritation she experienced because of him. "You're going there?" she asked in low undertones.

"Indeed."

It was enough that Will was getting on her last nerve, but having to endure being in close quarters with him made her skin crawl. Although, she _was_ the sheriff, and most often had the obligation to be obliging, so she agreed.

"Excited for your date?" he asked her as they walked out to the car.

"It's a magic lesson."

"It's a euphemism, that's what it is."

Emma forced him through the passenger door. She rolled the windows down and put the radio on low volume.

"No it isn't," she contended, skimming her hands over the wheel.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?" whined Will, stepping awkwardly over a pair of giant mossy logs and grey rocks, curving around speckled tree trunks and trying to keep up his pace with the sheriff.<p>

"_We_ are not going anywhere," she responded dryly. The forest floor was a murky green and damp in that corner of the woods, where the hills caved into a stretch of dense vegetation. No longer were there red and autumn-orange leaves scattered across the grounds like a scene straight out of a fairy-tale; rather, a great canopy barricaded off the sky and the grounds were dark.

"Fine," he said. Will Scarlet was not a man made for worthless pursuit. He suffered from weariness. "I'll leave, then."

Emma turned around with a blank glare, unsympathetic. "Good."

He scanned the forest for a moment. Unsure of the direction they had been heading for almost ten minutes. Stumbled around the rocks before opening his mouth to speak.

"It's that way," the blonde pointed out, main road not far back.

"Ah," he thanked. "I got it."

With the sound of Will's footsteps drumming away, Emma looked around cautiously, through the trees again. Truthfully, Regina had almost sent her on some ridiculous quest in order to find the spot where they were supposed to be practising magic. But her confusion ensued, so much so that the sheriff needed to contact the other woman on the phone.

Two rings. No answer.

"Great," she groaned, putting it back in her pocket.

When she reached a circular section of land where the canopy was like a green dome, the air became different. Leaves were rustling slowly in the wind. She whipped her head around when she heard a stick snap on the other side of a small embankment, and reached for her phone again.

Just as she did, she felt a pair of hands blindfold her from behind.

"Regina," she struggled to say while leaning into the woman's front. "I…I know it's you."

The hold loosened, and Emma turned around only to see that her presumption was correct. "For god's sake, you scared me for a second."

"I couldn't help it," the older woman smirked. "You looked so lost and confused."

"I _wasn't_ lost and confused." The saviour rubbed at her eyes. "Of course it was you," she muttered, fixing the front of her hair. "You always smell like apples and…sunshine."

Regina dissolved into laughter. "I smell of sunshine?"

"It's figurative," the sheriff droned, taking a step back, adjusting her shirt. "Are we making magic today or just sneaking up on one another?"

"Both, I think," she replied. "I do happen to know exactly what you need to work on now."

She nudged Emma's arm and started leading her into the thick of the forest. It was hardly the proper-grounded surface for her heels, but Emma had, by now, stopped questioning the woman's mystifying fashion choices.

"So, what exactly is it that I need to work on?" the sheriff inquired while following her.

"It's the reason why we're in the forest," she justified before twisting her hand slowly, a tiny whirlwind of black smoke floating above her hand, until a dark purple rose spun up into her fingers. "Here," she said, reaching it out to the blonde.

Emma examined the thornless flower in the other woman's hand. "What's this for?"

"For you."

She shook her head and giggled. "I don't understand."

"Just take it," Regina urged, her voice heavy.

So she told her, "Fine," then took it and twirled it around between her palms. "I'm all for romantic gestures."

Regina rolled her eyes and sighed overtly. "Plants have magical properties," she began. "So do animals, so does water, and so does the earth…"

"Earth magic?"

"It's the best way to assert your power."

Emma crossed her arms and stopped walking. "Oh really?"

"Remember when I created that earthquake within the city hall as a device to mask our working together?"

"Yes," she answered reluctantly.

They came to a clearing where flatter, drier grounds lay. The canopy opened up and a bluish sun shone down into the space.

"It's one thing to cast out magical rays of colour from your fingertips," Regina told her. "It's another thing to manipulate your environment completely."

"Hey, I created _fireworks_," she retorted.

"My point exactly."

"You weren't even with me. You were off…I don't know…whatever," Emma said soberly. "Teach me. I'm ready."

Regina gestured for her to slow down with the voracity. Although, she eventually gave in to the saviour's eagerness and conjured up something that the woman didn't see coming. The purple rose grew, grew thorns that contorted around its stem, too prickly for Emma to hold. She dropped the flower, taken aback as she watched the thorns morph into roots and then rapidly, into a monstrous tree that ascended above them, shooting up from the ground.

"Are we building a tree house?" she questioned, gulping at its increasing size. "I actually prefer the mansion."

The other woman smiled devilishly, and with a puff of magic, Emma was up in the twisting branches, entrapped within a cage of prickles and leaves.

"This tree is stronger than I am," Regina called up. "And it will hold you there until you command it to stop."

"Hey!" she shouted. "I know you want to…" She ducked away from a moving branch. "Like to teach me how to swim and all…"

"Use your instincts. It'll require strength, but not the usual kind," Regina continued. "Internal strength, strength of mind, wisdom. No brute force."

Emma squirmed as the branches swarmed over her in all directions. She felt paralysed. "This isn't fair! I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Weld yourself with the beast," she instructed. "Relax. Take control."

Among her tenseness, the sheriff tried to focus. She relaxed her muscles and looked around, and then down at Regina with a sour glare. She thought of the bridge, thought of how she manipulated the surface, but that was _fear_, and now she wasn't threatened by death or by hovering too high from the ground.

"Tell me how," Emma begged the woman below, attempting to blast the branches off but failing.

"Think about it!" she called out from the ground.

The blonde wriggled again, struggling out of the tree's monstrous arms. "I suck at this," she mumbled to herself quietly, still trying to slither away.

Regina looked up at the embarrassing magic trial. Emma Swan was so _incredibly_ lost; she was lost when it came to a lot of things, but she didn't like to let other people see it. And perhaps that was just one aspect of the blonde, those hesitant moments wherein she felt like she was being tested. Instinct was all she knew. She fed off her compulsions, hungry for the next fight.

"Move!" she blurted out from the tree.

"What?" Regina couldn't make out what she had just said.

"Move out of the way…" Emma gripped her hands on the side of the trunk and summoned all the magic she could supply, starting to electrify it through its branches.

The older woman proceeded to the other side of the tree. "Emma!"

The saviour continued, surging magic through its veins, forcing the leaves and wood to contort in shapes and curve away from their previous grip around her. She was stagnant until slaying the beast, the tree cracking along its middle and tipping towards the ground. Regina looked on in shock as the enormous creation fell from the air, the sheriff with it, to the forest floor with a thunderous crash.

After the air had cleared, she rushed over in search of the younger woman among the foliage.

"I'm here," croaked Emma, a pale hand and a glimpse of her sleeve waving out from underneath a log.

Regina started to pull her out, hauling her up from the rubble. "Brute force?" she panted.

"Telekinesis isn't really my thing," the sheriff groaned, stretching up from the leaves.

"Why is it that you always defy my instructions?"

"Because they're vague."

Emma stood up and brushed the dirt off her knees. She was lucky it was only a slow fall, and that she landed in a large section of shrubbery next to the main forest trail. She adjusted the jacket on her shoulders and smiled nonchalantly.

"I worry about you too much," Regina spat out, recovering from the sight of shock.

The blonde sighed, unsure of how to explain anything to her. "I don't know whether to be pleased or worried myself."

The other woman glowered, looking sullen and disappointed. She didn't want it to turn out like this.

"Hey," Emma reassured, fixing her hands on Regina's shoulders, "I'm fine. We're fine."

The sky darkened into a deep ultramarine, burnt, stained with marks of desire, bruised with scraps of their pooled thirst for each other. Out of the blue, it became more than just a petty friendship, and in their eyes they knew why.

"You're an idiot," Regina snarled, taking the sheriff's hands off her and pushing them away.

* * *

><p>"Have you ever wanted to do something so badly but you were afraid of what people would think?"<p>

It was a while later, when they were seated inside the cavernous opening created by the falling of the tree. It arched over a space that was enclosed on three sides, like a small den, and it started to get a little chilly in there so Regina lit a fire in its centre. And so they sat around the warm heart of the hollow hiding-place.

But now Emma was asking…_were you afraid of what people would think?_

And Regina didn't exactly know what to say, other than, "No, I haven't." Because she couldn't remember the last time she was herself, comfortable in her own skin. She didn't know whether to deepen the conversation. They were _technically_ friends, but never had anything in between them other than snarky comments and the occasional gesture of kindness.

"So what is it that you're afraid to do, then?"

The blonde spoke quietly. "I'll do it one day, and then you'll know."

"But why are you so scared of what others will think?" she continued.

Emma leant back and her eyes glittered with unease. "Because, this town has very explicit terms by which life is carried out, the way that people should fall in love, how children should be raised."

"I hope you aren't planning on moving out of Storybrooke," she blazed. After all, the woman had tried it once before.

"I'm not," the sheriff assured her. "I wouldn't move away."

"You're hung up about true love, then?"

She reeled back and collected her thoughts. "How did you know that?"

Regina grazed her heels over the ground and tried to look away, but found herself swerving back to the woman across from her. "True love has haunted me for longer than you've been born."

Emma felt her own body stiffen, a pulsing ache beating in her heart, pounding against the inside of her chest. Lump in her throat and palms beginning to sweat, she slowly comprehended the sentence that summed up the entire queen's, although now withering, misery. Love was her catalyst. Love was her demon. And love would be, with the saviour's help, her happy ending. She wanted to make sure of that, but it wasn't time to dip into that dark realm, especially since the afternoon held such promise.

"I spoke to David about Henry. He thinks we should do something special this weekend, the three of us."

"You, David and Henry?" Regina questioned. "I don't know why you'd think I'd be opposed."

"No, I mean me, you and Henry," she corrected, ducking her head. "How about on Saturday, maybe?" Emma didn't know where she was going with this, but the idea twinkled in her mind. "I don't know _what_, though. Something that families do."

Regina's eyes widened as she listened. "Sorry to break it to you, but there isn't much to do in Storybrooke."

"Then let's leave town for the weekend."

She scoffed in dismissal, poking fun at the concept. "Don't be so dreamy," the older woman exhaled. "You have a job. And we're still not so sure about what happens to those who cross the town line until it's cleared up."

"I guess," she pronounced, unenthusiastically coming down from the clouds.

"I'm sure Henry will think of something."

Emma moved closer to the fire and put her hands near the flames. Her skin glowed honey-amber with the light flickering across her complexion. "But, one day…" she meditated. "We'll go somewhere."

"One day," Regina resounded, sinking into the possibility. But it scared her a little, the premise of leaving what she knew.

"It'll be fine," the younger woman asserted, almost reading her thoughts. "I'm the best travelling companion you can get around here."

"I suppose that's true," she admitted. "But don't flatter yourself, Swan."

Emma laughed and retracted her hands from the fire, steadying herself on the rock. The queen made her feel light and giddy, but in a good way, and she did so until they decided to meet Henry after school before his afternoon trip to the mayor's office.

* * *

><p>"I can't, I'm technically grounded," Henry told Aster as they walked along Storybrooke's main stretch of road.<p>

"Well, I'll tell Jack," she said, dragging her soles across the pavement. "I really hoped you could come."

He looked around for his mothers, who were meant to be meeting him at the street-corner. "Afternoons are pretty busy for me now."

"Look," she interjected, stopping him in his path. "If you don't want to hang out, you can just say so."

"No, that's not what it is…" Henry certified, but immediately became lost for words. "It's just…"

"I get it," she told him leisurely. "Grounded means grounded."

They continued walking to the corner where Aster would go the rest of the way home by herself. The sun peeked behind the shopfronts before a vehicle pulled up at the side of the road.

"I should go," she said quickly, a hand on his shoulder.

Henry nodded and bid her goodbye, just as his mothers stepped out of the car.

"Hey, your girlfriend's running off," Emma joked as she went up to him.

"Maybe you scared her away," he chuckled while his mother pulled him into an embarrassing embrace.

"Nonsense," she shrugged. "Girls love me."

Regina approached them from behind. "I wouldn't say that, dear," she told the blonde.

"But it's true," Emma reinforced, turning back to her son. "Besides, I know she isn't your girlfriend."

Henry's mouth hung open sheepishly. He was mortified already. "And…and how do you know that?"

"I'm the sheriff," she explained. "I have eyes everywhere."

"Well," Regina cut in, having to remind the others of where they needed to go. "It's good to know our tax dollars are going to your peering at underage couples, but our son needs to get to the mayor's office before five."

She checked the time on her phone and glanced at Henry. "Can't we just go for ice-cream or something?"

"No," Regina persisted. "This is happening."

Emma and Henry groaned loudly at the same time, stomping down the street like identical twin teenagers in the direction of the office. She smiled seeing them so in sync with each other, despite the fact that they would rather go out for food together than see Mary Margaret. The saviour was clearly more liberal with him, which he often needed.

When their collective mood died down, Henry asked his mothers about what they were doing earlier.

"Nothing important," Emma was quick to say, reluctant to talk about her frenzied magic attempt. "Just hanging out."

"Hanging out?" he inquired, unfamiliar with the mental image. "Doing what?"

"Um…" She scratched the back of her neck. "Doing magic."

He started to walk at a slower pace, lagging slightly behind. "Weren't you supposed to be at work?"

"She _was_," Regina said, and felt the other woman lour at her.

* * *

><p>The mayor's office was unusually full for once. Several townspeople were helping Mary Margaret set up arrays of chairs and rearrange furniture around the room.<p>

"What's going on?" Regina questioned.

"Town forum starts soon," Henry told her, now on top of all the arrangements.

Emma put a hand against her forehead. "Damn it, now it looks bad if we don't stay."

"I thought you guys…_were_ attending the forum," he sighed.

"Oh, I don't know," Regina whirred, looking at the other woman confusedly.

He drooped his head. "Mary Margaret won't let you guys leave."

She was waving at them from behind her desk. The chairs were set up in circular rows, the mayor enjoying the more intimate forms of town meet-ups fit for representatives of each industry and work sector to bring up any issues at hand.

Emma grabbed Regina's arm and neared her side. "Let's go home and leave the kid here," she whispered in her ear.

The queen shook her off and waved back at Mary Margaret, pretending to smile with great pleasure. "Forget it," she hushed the blonde.

Henry was already making his way through the chairs and over to the mayor to ask what he could help with. He had taken quite an unexpected liking to the assistant job, which was originally his punishment. He was good with responsibility and rising to challenges.

"Did you know this was happening?" Emma asked.

"No," Regina retaliated. "_You're_ the sheriff."

"And you used to be _mayor_." She looked back and forth between the townspeople and the door, unsure of which one to approach.

"Let's just get a seat in the back," the older woman drawled. "It'll be over before you know it."

They never knew how much distaste for town events they had until they were forced to experience one of them. Making conversation about public issues was nothing other than boring, and it only reminded them of the town's mass-mentality by which regulations were perched on how many screams a mob could raise. Besides, watching Mary Margaret try and assert authority over a group of around twenty was painful enough.

Emma finally followed Regina to a couple of seats in the corner while the others arranged themselves around the office. Henry was on the other side of the room with Archie, who was making the first point of order.

"Maybe you can teleport us out of here," she said to her in an undertone.

"It's hardly the most graceful exit," Regina responded quietly, looking forward in rejection of the other woman's advances. "What's going on with you and Mary Margaret anyway?"

Emma hesitated before speaking. "I haven't been talking to her as much…it's weird not being in close quarters with her all the time."

"Maybe it's good for you," she posed.

Mary Margaret cast them a stern glare across the office. They abruptly retracted from each other and put their hands in their laps, sitting up properly, silent and attentive to Archie's ramblings.

After a minute, Emma became bored and edged towards the other woman again. "Let's create an earthquake," she whispered.

Regina began to laugh faintly but quickly cupped her mouth. The mayor looked over again and shook her head with disappointment.

"Stop it Emma," she hushed, still giggling under her breath.

The blonde nudged her shoulder and smiled, sensing the woman's amusement. "They already know your old tricks…"

"And that is why this program deserves all the funding we can get," Archie concluded, sitting back down in his seat.

"Very well," Mary Margaret responded. "Next?"

A plethora of muffled mumblings cascaded through the forum before Leroy stood up, ready to complain about a whole list of affairs.

"Here we go," Regina groused, checking her phone.

Emma hovered over the screen, invading her personal space. "What's that?"

She quickly put it back in her bag. "What's _what_?"

"That." The sheriff noticed her grinning from the message on the display and pointed at her face. "_That_," she emphasised as the queen's smile grew wider.

"My happiness?"

Emma moved back into her chair. "Who were you messaging?"

"Nobody of your interest…" She put her bag on the floor and attempted to listen to Leroy blather on through the crowd.

"One of your fine suitors?" the saviour quipped loudly, only to be shushed by someone sitting in the row in front of them.

Regina was fidgeting next to her. "No," she disputed uncomfortably. "I'm not looking for a suitor."

"Don't say that," Emma cut in. "You'll break a lot of hearts."

She looked away and sneered silently. "You truly are an idiot."

* * *

><p>"So, what were you two discussing?" Mary Margaret interrogated, making a grimace at Henry's two mothers.<p>

"Yeah," he agreed. "You guys weren't even paying attention."

"Sorry," Emma apologised, taking the blame for distracting the other woman. "My fault. I was being annoying."

Regina cleared her throat. "That's right. Anyway, Henry, I was thinking that you could forget about being grounded for now and free up your afternoons from assisting with all these mayoral duties."

Henry and Mary Margaret glanced at each other.

"No," he said, "I'm happy helping with this stuff. I actually enjoy it now."

His grandmother smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. It was there and then that Emma looked at Regina, and the both of them were reminded that their son was actually a pretty good kid. Rough around the edges, sure, because he had lived such a divergent lifestyle from the teenagers around him, but caring all the same.

"Come on," Emma swayed. She reached an arm around him as her eyes anchored on Regina. "Let's go home."

The words seemed like nothing, and yet they stormed through her heart.


	6. Parentheses of Starlight

Notes:_ I had been meaning to update this way earlier. It's substantial enough right now but the next chapter (which I'll update as soon as I can) will be a direct continuance because I wanted to get at least something out there. Anyway, this chapter is in two parts. Part 1 is more evidently earlier in the day and Part 2 occurs in the evening._

* * *

><p><span><strong>VI. Parentheses of Starlight<strong>

* * *

><p><em>(1)<em>

* * *

><p>The rocks steepened with the slope of the sky, blue and whitewashed. The Snow Queen's frosty sediment was now presumed as gone by many of the townspeople. Regina lifted up her eyes to the two figures marching up the hill with sturdy strides. Henry carried a slumping backpack and an esky filled with food supplies and the blonde in front of him had a picnic rug under her arm.<p>

"You still haven't pointed out where we're going," she told them, only to be ignored. It left her looking out to the sea beside the rocky hillside, even-tempered, not like the ocean was usually. By the serene landscape, they walked over the peak, beach in the distance behind them.

"Nearly there!" Emma called out from the front of the three hiking up.

"Nearly _where_?" Regina carped.

It wasn't that the sheriff was fitter than she was–or maybe it was–seeing her trek up the rocks ahead and being able to almost make out her muscles through those painted-on jeans.

Henry pulled the backpack further over his shoulders. "I've been coming here for ages; you two just never knew about it."

"Know about…" Regina panted. "I didn't know about this?"

"Nope," he said, stepping down onto a boulder. "I used to go a lot of places by myself."

She momentarily ruminated over her son's earlier days, still figuring out the ways of the world, the fairy-tales behind the masks of Storybrooke's citizens. He had been a lonely boy, but was never truly _alone_, at least, not with that book by his side.

They made their way down the slope and neared a flat bend of land around a secluded beachside, shaded by trees. It was elevated just marginally up from the water, gentle crashes of sea-foam bubbling against the rocks.

"No, I haven't ever been here," remarked Regina, slowly edging towards the others.

The sea stretched out into the offing, glittering with colour and light, as Henry took the picnic rug from his mother and spread it out across a patch of grass a little way up from the shore. He put the supplies down. They all took in the air of that small oasis.

Regina faced the ocean, breeze gliding over her skin. Just then, Emma pulled out a Polaroid camera and snapped a picture of her.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, turning around to see the blonde wavering a tiny sheet in her hand. "What was that?"

It took a moment before the image appeared on the plastic. "It's pretty," said the saviour, gazing at the picture with bubbly eyes.

"So now you're a photographer?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You haven't seen nothing yet," was the twinkling reply, Emma still admiring the photograph. She couldn't tell whether she was infatuated with the sea, or with the silhouette of Regina against the horizon, but she couldn't stop smiling either way.

"Let's see," the older woman pursued, walking over and snatching the Polaroid photo out of her hand to examine it. "Well…I would have never thought…"

"What?" The sheriff took it back. "I like it. I'm keeping it."

"I thought you weren't sentimental," she laughed airily, fixing her eyes on the woman in front of her.

It was a pleasant Saturday. Emma realised that she might just be a _little_ sentimental, because when she looked back at Regina and tried to mouth the words, "I'm not," they came out as hollow puffs of breath.

"_Emma Swan and Regina Mills_," Henry called out, cupping his hands around his mouth and putting on a low-pitched megaphone accent. "_Stop staring at each other and come over here,_" he boomed.

His mothers' gazes flicked back to him. The teenager had set up the picnic without their help, sitting cross-legged on the rug with a cheeky look on his face.

"Oh, Henry, aren't you good," Regina commended as they went underneath the shade of the treetops.

He was on his best behaviour, and he had been for the entire week. If his parents didn't know any better, they'd think he was hiding something, but after observing him as being so hard-working at the mayor's office and helping out his family and taking initiative, it seemed as if the kid knew what he was doing.

"So, is Mary Margaret sick of you yet?" Emma joked. "What's the update?"

"No," he refuted, brushing off the comment. "She loves having me around."

Regina pursed her lips, still wary of how much time her son was now spending with the Charmings, wondering whether their ridiculous personalities had rubbed off on him yet. David's self-righteous attitude in addition to Mary Margaret's wild optimism was already enough, let alone the fact that they were now sharing living quarters with Emma.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that David invited us for lunch tomorrow."

She glowered at the younger woman. "What?"

"I think it'll be nice," she continued, fishing for food. "Henry wants to go, _right_ Henry?"

Henry curved the corners of his lips up into an unconvincing smile. "Right."

Regina knew she couldn't say no, and that she was to embrace that branch of the family at all times. "Very well," she said, "I'm looking forward to it."

"As am I," Emma enforced, strong and formal enough to sound sarcastic. She scooted over to lie on her side and rested on an elbow.

A feathery breeze floated into the air. They remained sitting and eating and speaking and doing all the things that normal families did, except that they _weren't_ normal, they were more special than that.

"So, I've decided to take a break from magic," the saviour finally brought herself to say.

"Excuse me?" Regina spat out, almost personally offended by the remark. "I hope you're kidding."

"I'm half-kidding," she confessed. "But I'm also half-serious about taking a step back, at least for a short while. I lived without magic for twenty-eight years and I can live without it now."

Henry clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Don't worry, I can teach you," Regina assured her.

"No, that's alright," she mumbled quietly. "Besides, I get too nervous around you anyway."

The older woman simpered. "That's _your_ problem, dear."

"It is now?"

"I don't see any reason why you should be nervous about magic," she mused, glancing out to the sea.

"Yes, magic," Emma coughed. "Speaking of the stuff…I've really got to re-open that town line, check if it's safe."

The townspeople had been going crazy over the entrapment. Occurrences like memory loss and curses were common happenings in Storybrooke, but nobody ever seemed to accept it casually. At least, not yet, perhaps not even until the next villain would grace their communal presence.

Henry seemed distracted, eyes drifting off into the distance.

"You alright?" the sheriff probed, only to receive a flippant scowl. "Hey, I was just wondering. You seem like you're in a daydream."

He reconfigured his attention to her. "I want to see what the temperature's like. Of the water."

Regina watched her son stand up and undo his shoelaces. "The water's freezing, Henry."

"So what?" he said to her. "It's refreshing."

"I don't want you to hurt yourself," she was quick to say, while Emma was uncaring about whatever risk she was conjuring up in her mind.

He patted her on the shoulder and went away, ocean wide in front of him, before reaching the sandy edge and dipping his toes in the water. "It's not that bad!" he exclaimed, balancing among the ripples.

His mothers smiled at him from afar.

"He's such a great kid," Emma commented, snapping a picture of Henry meandering along the coastline.

"Must have been from his excellent upbringing," Regina said in response, smirking.

She watched him in the distance, strolling around the curve of the shore, kicking rocks with his bare feet and wading through the water. "I'll give you that," she shrugged, turning back to the other woman and holding up the Polaroid.

"May you please refrain from taking any more photos of me?"

Emma sighed, lifting her eye away from the lens before mocking her. "May you please refrain from interfering with my artistic inspiration?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," she retorted. "Ever."

The saviour lowered her gaze into the lens once more and sat up on her knees.

"That's enough," the older woman lectured, looking in the other direction, attempting to dodge the incoming snapshot.

"This is good. Emotion is good." The blonde was infuriating now with that thing in her hands.

Regina held a palm over her eyes and carried on complaining. "If you do not put that god-forsaken camera down so help me I will–"

"Shh," Emma said. "You're beautiful."

In a flash, the photo was taken. It was only a reflex.

* * *

><p>"I have <em>zero<em> time to cook before tomorrow, David."

He expressed a guilty look to his wife. "Sorry, I know it was a bit last minute, but I really thought inviting them over for lunch would be great for us." He ambled around the kitchen. "And by _us_, I mean the whole family."

"Our family extends to far greater lengths than just Regina."

"Well, I know that this is all we've got right now." He approached her from behind and snaked his hands around her waist. "I also know that you booked that place we were talking about."

Mary Margaret freed herself from his embrace and turned around. "I'm not so sure it's best anymore."

"What are you talking about? The house on the hill? I've seen the pictures online, and it's stunning."

She brought a hand up to cup his cheek. "A weekend away is a nice idea, but we still have so many obligations. Plus, it wouldn't reflect well on our family."

The mayor walked over to the dining table and took a seat, her husband following swiftly behind. "We've been waiting to do this for ages," he groaned.

"I'll put it on hold then, and we'll see." Mary Margaret was swamped with work, and so was David, but only one of them was dreamy enough to think about holidaying at such a time like that.

They rested there for a minute, sharing silent thoughts, sinking into miscellaneous stacks of paperwork and thinking about other things altogether.

"Loosen up," David eventually uttered. "Let it go."

He was so serious that it was hard for Mary Margaret not to burst out laughing. "_You_ let it go," she ordered. The man was too whimsical for work.

* * *

><p>Emma was flabbergasted at herself. Deeming Regina beautiful was something she only did in her mind, not <em>out loud<em> like an idiot. She could only hope that it was taken lightly, rather than as an accidental confession of whatever the hell her feelings were.

Regina blinked, eyes dilating into dark pools of curiosity. "I told you not to," was all she could say, quietly and against the purling sound of the sea.

The saviour slipped the plastic photograph into her pocket without taking one look at it. They waited long enough in silence for the comment to be forgotten.

Also, until Regina's phone started ringing loudly. "I have to take this," she apologised, wandering off through the trees, finding a bench where the blonde couldn't see her, still restless.

'Hello,' she greeted grumpily into the speaker.

'You've been ignoring all my calls,' Tinker Bell complained. 'It seems awfully like you're avoiding me.'

'So what if I am?'

'Well…' The fairy paused, always thinking their friendship was greater than it truly was. 'You shouldn't be.'

Something about interacting with Tink now left a bad taste in her mouth, not because she was a bad friend, but simply one who always got too easily fixated on things. 'You can't enchant me with magic dust and happy endings anymore.'

'I'm not trying to _enchant_ you,' she rebuffed, having to quickly convince herself of her own honesty. 'I want to know what's going on in your life.'

'Are you my therapist?' Regina inquired, leaving a breath of silence down the line. 'Then no.'

'Oh, are you seeing Archie?'

'No, I didn't mean that I was in therapy,' she muttered. 'Although, I may have to turn myself in if you keep badgering me.'

Even though she rarely admitted it, Regina enjoyed the fact that in the past, Tinker Bell's focal point had been helping her forge a happy ending. But now, the whole concept of one didn't seem to matter as much. When she played along with the fairy's game, she was looking too hard for someone to complete her rather than complement her, to dream about rather than dream with, to chase instead of cherish. None of it _mattered_, because it wasn't real, and now that she peeked through the trees and glimpsed Emma and Henry laughing together on the shoreline, she thought to herself, _this_ is real, _this_ is special.

'I'm sorry,' she said to her friend. 'I didn't mean that. I'd like to stop talking about myself for a while.'

Tinker Bell's breath sounded heavy as she told her, 'It's okay.'

'Would you like to come over tonight? I'd really appreciate it.' Regina knew she had to mend her differences with everyone if she were to keep whatever state of happiness she was in to continue.

There was a moment of quiet before she heard Tink's voice, suppressed but light-hearted. 'I'd like that.'

When she hung up the phone, making her way back to Emma and Henry, she had to stop for a second and savour everything she had. Finally.

* * *

><p><em>(2)<em>

* * *

><p>The kitchen was fuming with flavours and spices when they all had dinner at 108 Mifflin Street. Henry was off watching the TV afterwards, although he still heard the muffled conversation from the other room, remote laughter disrupting the movie he had put on.<p>

"Honestly," Tink giggled, lowering her glass of wine down onto the table. "You two, here together, is great."

"Yes," Regina agreed. "We haven't had any altercations thus far, which is promising."

Emma laughed in an undertone, eyes glued to her. "What could we _possibly_ disagree about?"

"You managed to disagree on quite a few things back in Neverland," the fairy said. "Walking directions, plans of action, magic use, map-reading, pairing up, men…"

"_Men_?" the sheriff interrupted, slightly tipsy. "What _men_?"

Regina chuckled. "Both objects of desire and disgust, dear."

"Well, count me out of the desire part." She ran her fingers over the tablecloth.

"So, you're single?" Tink quizzed, almost feverishly.

Emma's eyes sunk. "I haven't been in an exclusive relationship for a while, actually."

"That's good to hear." She scanned the air between the two women. "Regina's single too, aren't you Regina?"

The queen made a sound low in her throat, some sort of neurotic knee-jerk reaction to the conversational descent, which she didn't see as very appealing. "I am."

"Well _there's_ a twist of fate," Tink said in response.

"Does it come with a bowl of pixie dust?"

She shook her head. "Nothing is better than having friends to talk about these things with…relationships, I mean."

"I do not see any benefit in talking about anything of the sort," Regina continued, arguing back persistently.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Emma interjected. "You'll find love, if you want it. But you don't need it to be happy…" She mouthed the words huskily. "And that's okay."

"You're edging on a fine line."

"I'm alright with that," the blonde enforced. "I told you I'd push your limits."

Tinker Bell leaned back into her chair, and as she viewed the two women, felt a lightbulb blink bright in her mind. "You two, here together, is wonderful," she repeated, having forgotten she had been echoing the phrase all night.

Regina knew it wasn't so much about coming together as a family as it was the saviour's company, which made her heart glow. "No, _Emma's_ wonderful," she corrected.

The sheriff turned to Tink and showed a toothy smile. "It's true, I am."

"What's Henry watching?" Regina questioned, hearing a loud crashing noise emanating from the TV sound system in the other room.

Emma stretched out her arms. "Let's find out."

"Henry…" She stood up and pushed her chair in before roaming into the living room where the teenager was seated on one of the side-lounges in front of a movie.

* * *

><p>"I hope this isn't a horror film, Henry." Regina loomed over his shoulder. "Because you don't have such a good track record with nightmares."<p>

His eyes were glued to the screen, body under a blanket. "It's Japanese."

"_What's_ Japanese?"

"The _film_," he groaned, reaching for the remote and pressing pause. "Japanese. Horror. Film."

She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room, only to see Emma had situated herself on the other lounge and was sitting with her knees up to her chest in anticipation. "Keep playing it Henry," the sheriff said eagerly. "The guy's about to get the phone call."

"You've _seen_ this inappropriate material, Emma?"

She nodded without a doubt. "It's art."

Henry twisted around and grinned at his mother. "It's art," he reiterated. "Jack gave it to me."

"Well, _I'll_ check it out," Tink cut in, plonking herself down next to him.

Suddenly, Regina realised she was the only one left standing. While the others waited with a collective spirit of inquisitiveness, she found herself giving in, collapsing down on the lounge where Emma was and pulling a blanket over herself.

"Jack is not to be trusted, Henry," she warned her son before he restarted the movie.

"Wait," said Emma, springing up. "I'll get the lights."

Regina didn't particularly like horror movies. It was only when those lights went out and the entire living room became so dark that she could barely see her own hand in front of her face that she remembered it. She tucked the blanket up to her neck and conjured up whatever patience she could.

Emma snaked through the two lounges and when she took her seat back down next to the queen, she ducked under her blanket.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" the older woman uttered.

The blonde seemed surprised. "It's cold."

Regina rolled her eyes and let the other woman get underneath from the neck down. It was immediately warmer, having her there, and slightly eased the fact that they were about to watch a mentally deranged man on the TV screen, doing god-knows-what.

Henry switched it back on and smiled at Tinker Bell who was next to him. "_This_ is the real stuff," he emphasised to her, before receiving a smile back. The teenager craved friendship. He would search for it wherever he went and accept it from nearly anyone, including Jack, no matter how bad an influence he was. Besides, being friends with Jack meant he had a round-the-clock array of excuses to see Aster, especially since those two were neighbours. Disconnecting from that group would mean he'd find himself lonely again, which he had been for years.

In spite of that, he was happy. He had his mothers. He was doing well in school. It almost seemed too good to be true, just _living _without having to fight for something. It was certainly a change from the past. And the future was metamorphosing into this pleasing string of potential, perhaps for nothing in return, yet maybe for everything he had always hoped for.

"I'm surprised you're watching," he said to the fairy.

She let out a half-smothered laugh. "I'm quite easily entertained."

Evidence from Tinker Bell's past validated that, specifically in relation to her tampering with Regina's life. But it was only now that she saw the woman slink towards Emma on the other lounge that a new fancy began to tickle her interest: the thought of them together. It was an outrageous idea at first, but the more it crept up on her, the more she was convinced it was the only thing that made sense in the crazy world of Storybrooke.

"You two comfortable?" she asked them from across the living area, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah," Emma replied with her eyes unmoving from the screen.

Regina nodded slowly, however noticed that her friend was up to something. "Quite…"

The saviour seemed to care extremely little that they were so close on the lounge; Henry and Tink's was off to the side, but theirs was directly in front of the TV, so she sat against the armrest beside Regina as they faced the anguished Japanese cries coming from the horror movie on screen. She tried not to so obviously examine the older woman's expressions as she watched, to see whether she was scared or not. Or bored. Which was likely.

It took a short while before the blonde edged closer towards her, whispering, "Hey."

Emma's breath startled her senses. "What?"

"Is this okay?"

Regina looked at the subtitles on the display, which spelled out something about prolonged death and mental torture and dark threats. "It's…fine." Her voice came out raspy.

Henry and Tink were enraptured by the film. Their eyes were glittering with urgency and suspense, entwined within the story. Emma could only see their faces glowing in the flickering hue of the TV, whereas when she turned back to Regina, she could barely see a thing through the gloomy light. She flinched when she realised she had been watching the woman for many long moments, studying her facial movements, the pace of her breath rising and falling, her fingers clutching the fringe of the blanket when an intense scene came up. The sheriff was suddenly embarrassed.

And Regina was trying her best to hide her emotions while she ruminated over why Tinker Bell had been acting so weird all night, but she kept getting distracted by her fear of horror films and wished it would be over soon. And she wished Emma would stop staring at her every five seconds. The blonde was, in the most blatant of terms, fucking naive.

Emma was having an equally difficult time trying to stop herself from wrapping her arms around Regina and protecting her from anything she was scared of. Maybe this impulsive, protective streak was because she was the sheriff, or maybe because she promised to give her a happy ending. She shuffled further towards her side and waited.

It was only when the film became incredibly loud and the dialogue thundered out from the speakers in a burning climax that she felt it was safe to near the other woman without a stir. Within the darkness of the living room, she reached out a hand to her underneath the blanket.

Emma rested her fingers between the gaps in the other woman's knuckles, before brushing along the back of her hand and tracing a circle around her wrist-bone. She lingered there for a moment as Regina almost withdrew her arm at the contact, although the touch was so soft and warm it became harmless. She felt slender fingertips graze along her complexion until they reached the curve of her elbow, drawing a map of her skin, and then back again.

Henry and Tink were still oblivious to the fact that the two women were moving under the cover of the blanket on the other lounge.

Emma crossed her legs and felt the plastic photo from earlier crumple a little inside her pocket. She looked at the other woman until she was forced to acknowledge the constant staring.

"What is it?" Regina asked in muffled tones, their fingers now intertwined.

The whisper billowed out in one, long breath. "Can I put my arm around you?"

In her eyes she was brave. So without thinking, Regina silently arched her spine away from the back of the lounge, leaving enough space for Emma's hand to slither through the gap to the other side and latch onto her waist, out of sight from the others. Their bodies settled into the cushions, the saviour holding the queen, leaning into the slope of her shoulder. Regina curled inwards, nestling into the other woman's snug embrace. They became lost in the intimacy of it all, the homeliness they found in one another, their scents, almost like a shared nostalgia for something absent.

As the shadows danced across the TV screen, Emma's mouth lowered down to Regina's ear. There was a scene with a pixelated forest, and then a clock ticking on repeat. Then jump-cuts to a record player, an ocean with waves crashing onto black rocks, a mixture of sunlight and evil all in one.

"Regina, I…" Emma exhaled it almost inaudibly, resting her forehead against the woman's temple.


	7. Violet

**VII. Violet**

Black light guttered through the room, Regina's neck warm, loosely covered with the fleece of the blanket.

"What?" she whispered in response, mouth curving up into a half-moon.

Emma gave out a small giggle, Tink and Henry still unaware of their movements. "You," she said, trailing down her cheek. "You're just…"

Regina swallowed as she felt the blonde lean into her collarbone. It made her twitch and then all at once, ticklish. "Stop it," she chuckled, squirming away.

The saviour was enjoying this. Teasing her, making her skin tingle with different sensations while she tried so desperately not to laugh.

"I mean it," she urged, fighting off the other woman.

But Emma's arm only grew tighter around her waist. "Oh no," she warned. "Wouldn't want to laugh during the death scene, would we?"

"Settle down." Regina shoved her into the armrest. "You're a child. And a living, breathing movie spoiler."

Emma withdrew her grip from around the woman's back and stared. "You love children," she reminded her.

Henry was sitting on the edge of the adjacent lounge in hurried anticipation of the ending and Tinker Bell had started to become drowsy, eyes drooping open and closed.

"This is not the time, nor the place for your games," Regina whispered harshly, shuffling over to the far side.

"I'm just getting started," Emma challenged. "You'll see." Her voice was becoming louder.

"Shh!" Henry exclaimed from across the room, eyes still on the screen.

The sheriff cowered away, but pointed a finger directly at Regina and then redirected it to herself. And at that, Regina smiled freshly, the woman's movements obscure. And as she did, it slowly dawned on her that prior to Emma moving into the mansion, she questioned whether she could even live with the blonde. Now, she was questioning how the hell she could live without her.

Suddenly, a piercing sound burst out from the television set and the screen went black, giving light to more shadows and the beginning of an ending. Henry furiously tapped his fingers on his kneecaps when the film came to a close. "Ah, that's it," he finally said once the menu popped up, before trudging over to get the lights.

When he flicked up all the switches, Emma immediately squinted, rubbing at her eyes and groaning. "Henry Mills," she grumbled. "Turn those back off this instant."

He slouched against the wall. "No. You're fine."

Tinker Bell stood up and grabbed her bag from the floor next to the lounge. She smiled at the others. "Not too bad!"

"_Sure_," Regina drawled, always with a tang of sarcasm.

She pulled it over her shoulder and said goodbye to Henry, indicating very strongly that she had to be home as soon as possible. None of them knew why she was all of a sudden so brisk out the door, but they followed behind.

Tink stepped out onto the porch. The air was chilly, almost biting. "Thanks for dinner."

"No problem," Regina huffed through the cold.

The saviour broke in, "You're welcome, anytime."

The fairy walked inwards and wrapped her arms around both of them at the same time, hurling the women into some sort of awkward group hug. "Thank you," she repeated, holding them there.

When they shook her off and she started making headway down the steps of the porch, she quickly leapt off the ground. "Oh no! I nearly stepped on them."

"On what, exactly?" Regina inquired.

Tinker Bell bent down and picked up what looked like a bunch of flowers sitting on the front steps. "These," she clarified, turning back around. "Are they yours?"

When she paced back over to the doorway and presented them with the bouquet, Emma picked up the white card that was sticking out of the floral arrangement. "Cute," she commented, peering at Regina. "They're for you."

The older woman crossed her arms. "They can't be…I don't even know who…"

Emma forced them into her hands. It was a rather extravagant, let alone extreme gift on the giver's part. Regina examined the pale leaflet but the handwritten note was smudged, leaving this mysterious giver as simply that: a mystery.

"Who are they from?" Tink asked with a certain curiosity that always sprung to life around her friend.

But Regina's silence was only making Emma tense up.

The queen looked around, night sky beaming down its moonlight onto her face. In the spur of that crystalline moment, she knew exactly who that bunch of greenish flowers speckled with violets were from, her chest falling into a deep sigh.

Emma tried to wring out an answer. "Well, come on. Not all of us get secret admirers sending us stuff."

"I don't know who they're from," Regina said in an instant. "Honestly I…" She rotated the piece of paper in her fingertips. "I have no clue."

"You don't?"

She shook her head. It was one thing to admit she knew who sent them, but it was a whole other realm making the blonde jealous, especially since it provided so much personal entertainment.

So, "No," was what she confirmed. "Sorry to disappoint."

Emma tipped her head to the side, her face full of childish confusion. "I don't get it."

"Ah, well," Tinker Bell interjected. "I should be off now. I'll see you two soon." The fairy left abruptly, mystification still in the air.

Regina tucked the bunch of flowers under her arm, careful not to crush them. "What is it now?" she questioned as the woman in front of her narrowed her eyes.

"I can tell that you're lying."

"You can _not_," she dismissed. "They're just flowers, Emma. Nothing threatening."

"I feel threatened."

Regina motioned to go back inside the house but found herself emotionally hauled back onto the porch. She let out a faint laugh. "Why do you feel threatened?"

The sheriff kept furrowing her eyebrows at the flowers, hoping a name tag would magically pop up from in between the stems. "I don't know who's sending you this stuff. It could be some creepy stranger or a weird neighbour. Maybe an ex. I don't know," she rambled on.

"I assure you, it's not."

She was walking back and forth across the doorway now. "So what? I still don't want random flowers turning up on the doorstep of my home."

Humour aside, it was the words _my home_ that got to Regina like a wildfire in her bones. She could see the other woman stiffen with this futile, silly teenage jealousy, which wasn't going away. "They're mine. It's none of your business."

"Your business _is_ my business. You better give those to me, actually," Emma implored.

Regina signalled desperately for the other woman to come inside. Finally, the saviour was convinced. "And why would I do that?" she asked once the door was shut behind them.

Henry was kicking his feet into the lounge. He became overcome with boredom after the movie finished, and was too far from tired to drag himself up the stairs. He barely noticed the flowers when his mothers walked into the kitchen, but he did notice Emma looking a little on-edge.

Regina could sense the blonde following her to the sink where she placed down the bouquet. "Your intentions are laughable, my dear," she said while reaching up to fetch a vase.

"I'm serious," Emma debated, frowning at her. "I mean, they could be poisonous for all you know. It's just the logical thing to do."

A sharp ring chimed out from the home phone and Henry ran through the entrance hall to grab it, picking it up and pressing it to his ear.

"You're a world away from logical right now," Regina pointed out.

"And you're lying. About–" She brushed a hand over the flowers. "–These. I don't want to have to look at them every day."

"Because?" the older woman began, lowering her tone of voice so as to hear who her son was speaking to in the other room. "Because they'll remind you of _your_ _lack_ of secret admirers?"

Emma took a step away and made a grimace. "No. I have lots of admirers."

"Like who?"

"Like…people I've met."

Regina wasn't buying anything except the blonde's transparent jealousy. "People you've met."

"Yeah," she stuttered with a voice that was way too high-pitched to sound authentic. "Everyone knows I'm the saviour. There's got to be some appeal in that."

A vase was set down on the kitchen island and filled with just enough water for the plants. "Mm."

"And I tell good jokes," she continued, leaning her elbows on the bench.

"No you don't."

Emma's eyes glistened. "Yes I do."

"Emma…" Regina's voice trailed off as she heard Henry speaking to someone on the phone around the corner. He sounded all cool, silver-tongued, nothing like the clumsy kid who he usually was. "Who's on the phone?" she called out to him.

Without receiving an answer, his mother left the kitchen to investigate. Emma remained there, frowning at herself, frowning at the flowers. They frowned back.

Regina was more or less an enigma at the moment. At least, she was when she chose to be. The blonde, on the other hand, couldn't hide herself so well. Her emotions lay bare on her face, in the wash of her eyes, in the temper of her voice.

Her stomach was in knots when she pulled the Polaroid photo out of her back pocket. It was bent in one corner and the plastic curved into an arc, distorting the picture of Regina at the shore from that morning. She brought it up to her line of sight and saw the one look that said everything, plain, simple and unscathed.

* * *

><p>"Henry, who was that?"<p>

He swung around in surprise. "Nobody. I mean, just David confirming lunch tomorrow."

"At this hour?" Regina grilled. "Well, alright. He's not exactly the most organised person."

He put the phone back in its holder. "Bad family trait, I guess."

"Not really," she said with haste and then ducked around the corner to check if Emma was still in the kitchen. She wasn't, so it was only safe to assume that she had traipsed up to her room.

Henry pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands as he walked away from his mother. "That's enough," was the echo that spilled through the mansion when he went to his own room now. It wasn't, "I'm tired," or "I'm off to bed," which bounced off the walls anymore. It was _that's enough, _and Regina could feel him turning into a teenager more and more by the second. Only wanting to hang out with his parents on the odd occasion. Playing his cards close to his chest.

"I love you," she sang out in response, as she always did.

Henry whisked around and mumbled, "Love you too…"

* * *

><p>Emma was sprawled across the bed in her room, almost making a snow angel in the sheets and still transfixed on the photo in her hand. The place was warm and airy, with the stars of the sky twinkling out the window. Just then, there was a knock at the door.<p>

"Come in," she welcomed before Regina stepped inside and closed the door behind her, a mug of hot cocoa in her hand.

"I thought you might want this," she told her, placing the steaming drink down on the bedside table. "I was making one for Henry but there was a little extra." She stood above the other woman and smiled.

"Thanks," Emma said, sitting up and crossing her legs.

Regina waited there for a moment before asking, "May I?" She pointed at the bed.

"Yeah, sure."

She slowly sat down on the edge and ran a hand over the covers. The sheriff had done a great job of messing them up. She glanced around at all the random items and clothing lying in heaps on the floor, hanging off the wardrobe handles and on the back of the door. "I really like how clean you're keeping the place."

"I'm not finished with it yet," Emma cut in, gesturing towards an array of miscellaneous family photos plastered on one of the walls. "See? I still haven't completed my serial-killer-style photo collection."

"The Emma Swan I used to know didn't care much for keepsakes." She sat further back onto the bed.

The blonde sighed. "Maybe you changed me."

Regina could virtually feel her heart skip a beat. "You changed me too."

The nighttime was like a desert when they would find each other, bathe in the absence of loneliness, sacrifice their usual walls-up mentality.

"In a good way though, I hope," Emma blathered on. "As in, the make-you-a-better-person way, not the make-you-lose-yourself way."

Regina held her breath, then released, "Yes." She watched the other woman take a sip of cocoa. "You've lost yourself before, then?"

"Because of someone else?" she mused, putting the mug back down beside her. "Yeah, in the past."

Regina's focus drifted off when she saw the photo of herself from earlier lying on the sheets. She snatched it up and raised her eyebrows at it.

"It's a reaction shot," Emma mentioned, crawling over to her.

"A reaction to what?" She examined it, perplexed.

"I told you that you were beautiful."

"I know _that_," she snapped and nudged the other woman's shoulder so hard she fell down onto her back. "I'm referring to what you supposedly think I'm having some big epiphany about in this photo."

Emma leant back onto her elbows. "Shit, I forgot," she apologised. "Sorry, you must get people calling you beautiful all the time."

Regina dissolved into a pool of laughter. "I appreciate the compliment. I'll add it to the list."

"You have a list of all my compliments? Can I see it?"

"It's all in here," she justified, pointing at her temple.

Emma made a face but decided to inquire further. "And what else?" she asked, lowering her voice an octave. "What else circles around the mind of Regina Mills?"

All of a sudden, Henry was knocking on the door. He startled them so abruptly that the mug of cocoa was nearly kicked onto the carpet.

"What are you guys talking about?" he questioned once inside the room.

Regina quickly got up from the bed and brushed off her skirt. "Nothing Henry. I was just telling your mother goodnight."

The teenager sauntered out of the room without any response. His habitual reaction to night happenings, the _that's enough_, convinced her that it truly _had _been enough with Emma. It was enough with the flowers and with Tinker Bell, enough with the hiding places and empty touches. Once he was gone, it was all they were left with.

"Sweet dreams," said Emma, voice subtle and quiet.

"You too," Regina whispered.

Her desire for the saviour was elevating madly into the eleventh-hour.


	8. The Art of Loving

Notes: _I've been a bit slack, I know, but after this chapter I'm going to release both chapter nine and chapter ten as a pair in max. a week's time w/ better quality ~ and I hope, satisfaction *)._

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><p><span><strong>VIII. The Art of Loving<strong>

"Good day, you have reached the Mills residence. Unfortunately, we cannot make it to the phone at this time…" Emma recounted the message facetiously, mocking Regina's tone of voice.

"It's a perfectly normal greeting!" she shouted from the kitchen while making breakfast.

The blonde played with the buttons on the cordless telephone set sitting on the coffee table. "It has no style. It doesn't capture the essence of this household."

Henry sat down next to her with a plate of food and slid away the daily newspaper, which was already occupying half the lounge, to one side. "And what _is_ the essence of this household?"

"Oh Henry, I'm so glad you asked." She adjusted her position against the cushions and held up a finger.

"On second thoughts…" he stopped her, "I'm not really that interested."

"Nor am I!" Regina called out again. She had to endure the woman's fussing with the phone all morning, making everyone aware of her dissatisfaction with the message on the answering machine. It was far too formal for her, and quite a stretch from the usual chirpy intonations back at Mary Margaret's place.

Emma picked up the handset. "Come on, you two. I've told you both a million times what this is about."

"Trying to be funny?" Henry was quick to suggest.

"No."

Regina appeared at the kitchen door. "Your inability to accept things the way they are?"

"No! It's about making this family official," she sighed and gave up. "Neither of you are any fun."

Henry spooned in a mouthful of food and put his plate down on the table. He was wearing dark flannel pyjamas, whereas his mother was already dressed and ready to go to lunch at the Charmings' residence. Regina walked into the room wearing a white silk robe, and Emma was having trouble discerning whether the woman was wearing anything underneath it. The thought bothered at her, which left her eyes lingering for way too long before Henry's other mother took a seat beside them.

"On the contrary, I can be rather fun, Emma," she said, pushing the phone set away from the blonde, who was still eyeing her up and down circumspectly.

"Oh, I can only imagine."

Henry glanced at his smirking mother and scrunched up his face. It was a dreary day, nothing spectacular happening in the town, a normal Sunday at best. "_I'm_ the most fun out of us three," he tried to convince them, but the boy was set aside.

"I bet you are all kinds of fun," Emma carried on, only to be hushed abruptly by the other woman.

Henry stood up and started to take his plate to the kitchen, socks sliding across the floor on the way. He grabbed a glass of water and washed his hands, meandered around the fridge, kicked his feet into the drawers, opened a window, let the air flood over him, ignored his mothers' banter across the hallway.

"It depends on what you like to do for fun," Regina remarked before taking a sip of coffee.

"Yeah," Emma agreed, smiling. "I haven't had fun in a while."

She looked at her affectedly, with amusement and intrigue. "Yes. Whenever I have fun it isn't ever any good."

With the sound of a plate clanking into the kitchen sink, Henry was making his way back to the coffee table.

"Maybe you're just not having fun with the right people," Emma pointed out.

"Are you volunteering?"

Henry's eyes flickered over them. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his pyjamas. "What time are we going over to the apartment?"

Regina collected her thoughts and glared at the other woman. "Oh…" The word tumbled out clumsily. "Soon."

"But we're re-recording this phone message first, right?" Emma intervened, pulling the receiver back towards her. "Let's at least change it to Swan Mills residence."

"Swan Mills?" Henry gawked.

Regina was at first apathetic, but warmed up to it. The word combination sounded well coming from the saviour's mouth.

"Swan Mills it is," Emma declared, about to press the record-button. The others rolled their eyes at seeing her become so excited over the smallest of things.

* * *

><p>A while afterwards, the sheriff logged onto the home computer in order to check her emails, and not much to her surprise, there was a notification from Ruby. Although, this time, it wasn't the usual gossip session or venting opportunity, it was a party invitation for the following week. A birthday celebration at that Italian restaurant in east Storybrooke sparked Emma's senses; it was everything she needed: people, music, food, a good time. Apparently Granny had organised some extra employees to run the diner whilst the party went on elsewhere, the venue apparently booked out because of Ruby's extensive friend list.<p>

"I see you've taken over my computer," Regina said, looming over the blonde's shoulders. "In addition to my house."

Emma minimised the panels on the screen and swivelled her chair around to face the other woman. "What? I already created my own account."

"I want to check my _own_ emails," she continued, shoving past and getting her fingers on the keyboard and mouse.

"Hey!" Emma exclaimed as she rolled away on the chair and stopped herself with her feet on the marble flooring. "I was on that. Besides, you need to get dressed."

"No I don't," she retorted slyly. "I'm perfectly fine the way I am."

The younger woman could barely stay still around her now. She tried to curse herself whenever her mind wandered, whenever she thought of Regina as anything other than a co-parent. It was so damn hard seeing her bent down over the computer all concentrated.

"Well, I'm not complaining Regina, but we're going to have to think about leaving some time in the near future and I don't think Mary Margaret will like your outfit."

Henry had already run upstairs to take a shower and change his own clothes, but it almost seemed like Regina was quite hesitant about going to lunch that day.

"Is that so?" she hummed. "Well perhaps this is exactly what I'll wear then."

Emma rolled her chair back over to the desk. "But baby, it's cold outside," she said, trying to distract her. "You'll freeze."

The older woman turned around and raised an eyebrow. "I regret letting you take your CD collection here."

"We can sing it instead if you want," Emma suggested, resting her fingers on the armrest.

Regina turned back and began typing away again at the keyboard. "I'd rather we didn't," she briskly dismissed.

The sheriff frowned at her. "I'm taking back what I said before, about you being fun," she muttered. "You're no fun at all."

The former mayor rested an elbow on the desk and glanced aimlessly over the screen. "Your statement is based on your own presumptions, not experience." She breathed in heavily. "And you are yet to experience many facets of my character."

The sound of Henry thumping across the hallway upstairs filled the space below.

"We _are_ technically drinking buddies," was the first thing that came to the saviour's mind.

"Emma…"

"Alright, alright," she groaned, moving away. "I'll leave you to it."

* * *

><p>By the time Regina had unenthusiastically gotten herself ready to face the day, the other two family members were already waiting by her car.<p>

"Can I drive?" Emma asked eagerly before the door was opened.

"If you want to drive," said Regina, "we can take your car."

Henry leant against the window, reaching his hands into his back pockets.

Emma adjusted her scarf. "But, I want to drive your car, if you'll let me." The request was plausible yet questionable.

"Are you sure?" the other woman asked with a sour glare. Clouds of mist were liquefying on the glass.

The sheriff nodded as she opened the door and sat down in the driver's seat, keen to see just how much Regina Mills was going to let her encroach upon her life. Push her limits. But she seemed unexpectedly fine with the situation, allowing her to drive through the town in that car she had owned for so many years. Emma was a good driver, but she would never admit it. Henry was in the back, chewing on a piece of gum and tying up a shoelace that had come undone. The heating was set on low against the white backdrop of Storybrooke metamorphosing in shades in the distance. She turned the radio on; it was all vaguely heard except a simple tune, classic yet indistinguishable, which floated on the silence.

"You look nice," Emma said to the woman next to her, taking a quick glimpse at her outfit.

Regina's gaze held firm on the road ahead, but she was grinning. "I know."

* * *

><p>Lunch was already on the table when they arrived at Mary Margaret and David's. Those two had been tending to Neal; the baby hadn't stopped crying all morning and his mother had dark circles around her eyes from a lack of sleep. In spite of that, she became excited about getting together with the others.<p>

"I'm impressed," Regina said once inside the apartment, well aware of their tiredness.

"Are you two going to Ruby's birthday party?" Mary Margaret asked straightaway.

Regina wrinkled her nose. "Most certainly _not."_

A second later, when they had all sat down, Emma made a high-pitched, "Umm…" before explaining that they had been personally invited that morning…a little late…but better late than never.

"We're not even friends with Ruby," she persisted, twisting a fork in her hand.

David let out a cough, which turned into a spell of laughter. "Wow," he said in-between a series of staggered breaths. "You two have lived together a week and you're already using the 'our friends' excuse? Next thing you'll get a shared bank account."

"We were _invited_," Emma repeated slowly. "And yes, she is one of our friends."

Regina put her cutlery down and peered at the other woman. "And you just get to decide that?"

Henry chimed into the conversation, with a nimble, "I'm going too."

"As is the entirety of Storybrooke, according to my knowledge of Ruby's amount of friends," Mary Margaret said.

"Speaking of the entirety of Storybrooke," David jumped in, directing his attention to his daughter, "which relies on you so greatly as saviour and sheriff…" He tripped over his words suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Mary Margaret and I have decided to go on a little Saturday drive a few hours out of town in a couple weekends time," he continued, blissfully imagining the trip. "If you would be so kind as to–"

"Wait a minute," she interjected, raising up a hand. "_You're _the only sheriff who gets to have weekend getaways?"

"No," he drew out. "But I'm just requesting that you be on-call around the clock for those few days."

"There are two sheriffs for a reason, David," she grumbled, staring at the wood of the table.

"Reason being?" Regina chuckled in delight at the blonde's looming weekend of supposed 'fun'.

"That you don't have to work as often?" Henry quipped.

Emma hit a palm against the table's surface and vocalised her frustration. "_Precisely._"

"Funny," Regina sighed as she reached for the water jug. "How you always draw the short straw."

Mary Margaret and David glared at each other through their peripheral vision, with slight guilt. "Oh…" Snow sounded, fingertips on the apex of her chin. "You're in it too."

Regina pulled a bewildered face. "In what, exactly?" she questioned. "A family who cares little for their own town duties?"

"Actually," the mayor corrected, "your old job."

"Tell me you're kidding," she grouched, throwing her head back and cursing the day she approved the Charmings to run Storybrooke. "I'm on Emma's boat. No weekend-holiday-drive-whatever it is you un-charmings have booked."

"Please, Regina." Mary Margaret was begging now. "It's just a Friday night until a Monday morning, and I've been so grateful for all the help you've given me so far."

She was still unhappy. "That was where my loyalty to you ended."

"Oh, but you've been so delightful!" the mayor exclaimed in awe. "Did you even _get_ those flowers I sent you?"

Emma's neck turned around 180-degrees. "What?"

"The flowers," her mother clarified. "I told Regina I'd send them over as a thank-you."

Regina's fists clenched up, sick of the woman's inability to keep anything up in the air. "Yes," she mumbled under her breath. "I received them."

Emma was flabbergasted, to say the least. "But…you said you didn't…you let me think that…"

The older woman brought a finger to the blonde's lips and sealed them shut. "Thank you for those."

"Thank _you_ for all the help!" Mary Margaret beamed brightly.

Regina stood up and pushed her chair in. "Please excuse me." She began heading towards the bathroom.

It only took a minute of awkward exchanges and jokes between Henry and David before Emma was quick to follow. She crept around the corner, sound of the others chatting muffled in the background, and tapped lightly on the bathroom door. She was left with her heart beating fast when Regina opened it and pulled her in.

"What do you want?" she asked, returning to fix her hair in the mirror above the sink, the sheriff standing behind.

"Was your secret admirer my mother this whole time?"

Regina tipped her head down and laughed, feeling it all build up in her chest when green eyes started shimmering in the mirror over her shoulder. "The whole time."

"How unexpected!" Emma laughed breathily. "I would have never guessed you were attracted to the fairest of them all."

"Actually, your mother is a piece of work," she simpered lightly, and then all at once melted into another puddle of laughter with the other woman. "Sorry, I…" she said once they recovered and Emma was leaning against the sink next to her. "She isn't so bad."

"It's alright," calmed the saviour. "When they go away we'll be mayor and sheriff again and run this town with no mercy given."

Regina couldn't help but smile. "I like the sound of that."

There was an immediate flashback in Emma's mind to their origins: the mayor appointing the sheriff, the election, even the fire. "I kind of miss it."

"What?" Regina questioned, even though she knew perfectly well. "Just you and I together?"

"Yeah." She was almost reluctant to admit that she had said it. But there were so many things she had already let slip in the past, probably more than she should ever reveal to anyone, and that was both settling and frightening at the same time. She felt a growing strain inside her whenever they were alone, as if she could meld with the other woman at any moment. And that doing so would be the most exhilarating thing in the world.

"You'd prefer me to boss you around, Ms Swan?" the older woman wondered.

"Maybe," Emma giggled.

She had suspected rightfully. The woman's eyes said it all. "You're really happy, aren't you?" she found herself saying.

The saviour held herself strong. "Maybe."

Her shoulders sunk as she took a step towards the bathroom door. "Maybe we should get back out there."

"But I just told you I'm already happy talking to you in here," the other woman whined, her hands clasped firmly over the edge of the bench.

She ignored her and went further towards the door. Suddenly, Emma's hand reached out and grabbed her arm where she had always fastened her grip in the past, not with force but with strength, with support, with trust. "Wait. I have to tell you something."

Regina blinked and stopped herself in her tracks.

"It's just that…" the blonde continued. "These past weeks have been…" She couldn't quite make out the right words. She only spoke well when her speech was rehearsed, and this was just too clumsy, bumbling through her feelings like an idiot.

The other woman escaped her grip. "Depressing? Dull? Torturous?"

"The best I've ever had in my life."

Regina felt her throat swell with heat. "We," she swallowed huskily. "Should get back, back out there."

"You're right," Emma quickly agreed, cursing herself for the hundredth time. It was fruitless anyway, unravelling the layers, thinking too much about happy-endings-nonsense.

* * *

><p>"We were just discussing Storybrooke's annual boat show," David said as they approached the table and sat down. "Runs over two nights: tomorrow and the next. Your mother and I have been invited as special guests."<p>

"Can I go?" Henry was zealous to ask, knowing very well that many of his friends from school would be there.

"Sure, you can come along with us," he told the teenager.

"So…" Regina expired. "You're taking Neal down to the docks tomorrow night?"

Mary Margaret put one hand over the other on the surface of the table. "We were hoping you and Emma could babysit him at your place."

"Enough with the favours." The saviour was drowning in them. "What if Regina and _I _want to go to the event?"

"Luckily, _we don't_," Regina countered. "I'd be happy to lend a hand."

The mayor smiled and glanced at David before looking back at the others. "So, it's settled then. I'll drop him off tomorrow."

"And pick me up," Henry reminded his grandmother, the mental picture of child-swapping ripening.

"Fine," Emma growled.

Mary Margaret smiled harder. "It's going to be wonderful; they're decking out the water with music and fairy lights and–"

"On one condition," the blonde sustained. Her voice was unwavering. "That on the second night of the show, _you're_ taking Henry here and _I'm_ taking Regina out to the docks."

"I have no interest in taking part in any stupid town events, Emma," the woman cut in.

David gave his daughter a thumbs-up. "Deal."

Henry shook his head. "I'm old enough to stay home alone, you know," he argued. "Not a kid anymore."

"I don't think so, kid," Emma shook off his argument. "Besides, we need a break from you."

"Emma!" Regina scolded, precipitately putting her hand on her son's shoulder. "We love you, Henry. Don't listen to her idiocy."

"Oh, _I'm _always the silly one, right?" she intoned in reverse, making hysterical gestures.

"Indeed you are, my dear," the other woman said. "And you always will be."


	9. Grass Stains

Notes:_ I'm uploading both this chapter and the next one in an hour. There will be direct continuance after chapter 10 and I might possibly upload two at a time next time as well, depending on logistics, word count etc. I really do hope they're gratifying, but I can never know…_

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><p><span><strong>IX. Grass Stains<strong>

The afternoon weather was clear along the suburban streets, just as Emma Swan was complaining, "Fuck…this always happens…"

It _did_ always happen. Forgetting her keys wasn't the most convenient thing in the world. Although, it didn't usually cause a mental disaster. It didn't usually leave her pacing across the front lawn of her own house, trying to think of options. Henry wasn't coming home before the boat show. Call Regina? But Regina was out with Tink, and the last thing she wanted to do was annoy the woman she was trying so hard to impress.

"That's it," she grumbled, scoping out the front of the mansion with a hand over her eyes. The sheriff had left some rather important files inside, which needed to get to the station as soon as possible.

Regina had told her the night before that she was meeting up with Tinker Bell, so soon after the fairy had joined them for dinner. Emma supposed it was back to all the old ways now, friendship-wise. But Henry's two mothers hadn't seen each other all morning and so the blonde was left contemplating the thing she had seen Graham do various times in the past: climb through the window of the master bedroom.

She checked the outside wall beneath Regina's window. It wasn't ridiculously far up. There was a lower one and some panelling that made it a little easier to reach up to the second storey. All she had to do was hoist herself onto that ledge. "Not hard at all."

Regina had already forbidden Emma from her bedroom, but now it was all or nothing. The window was a tad open. Besides, she had nothing to pick the front door's lock with. And sure, she could have just blasted it off, but her magic wasn't graceful enough to avoid destroying the entire porch, and most definitely not mature enough for teleportation; other than that, she wanted to save looking silly. For once.

"Alright, here goes," she mumbled, before realising she should probably stop talking to herself so much.

_So much for changing my key ring_, she thought once retreating back to her own quiet thoughts of being bored at the station earlier and stepping up onto the first windowsill. She latched her fingertips into the gaps in the wood above and hoisted herself up to the next block. Her hair got momentarily caught in the collar of her jacket so she had to pull away, but as her feet staggered up the wall, it all came crashing down. She lost her footing and tumbled onto the grass.

She scratched the back of her head and groaned.

"Sheriff Swan?" a voice buoyed in the air.

She inched away from the ground and turned to see the person standing behind her. "Oh, I know you."

The girl reached out a hand to help her up. "Aster."

"Right." Emma brushed off the grass stains on her jeans, glowering at them. "I know what it looks like, but this _is_ my house."

"I know." She giggled and shifted her weight from foot to foot, smallish, demure. "Is Henry home?"

"No, he isn't. He's going down to the docks with some friends and then meeting up with…" She sighed. "My parents. Later. Didn't you just see him at school?"

The girl was looking down at the lawn. "I wasn't at school today. There were some–" Her voice trailed off. "Family issues."

Emma glanced back up at the window above, thinking of how idiotic she must have looked from below. "Well, I'm sure you can find him somewhere."

"He told me we could get some homework done together tonight," Aster quickly mentioned. "I guess he forgot."

"Oh, sorry," the apology ensued. "Unfortunately he inherits forgetfulness from his mother. Me, I mean. The stupid one."

"Okay, well I should be going." She smiled sweetly. "Thanks Ms Swan."

"Emma. Call me Emma."

"Thanks Emma," she corrected as she started to walk away.

When she was out of sight, the saviour began the second attempt. This time, she was able to hang onto a line of railing before hoisting herself onto the second ledge of Regina's window. It took an awkward leg lift to move the already-open gap further upwards but she managed to pull herself through.

She had done it.

Emma pushed herself up from the flooring inside the bedroom and turned around to close the window behind her. She exhaled a long breath of relief, but just as she was out of air, she jumped at the sound of a voice.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Her head whipped around to see Regina staring at her. "What are _you_ doing?" she coughed at the shock of surprise running through her limbs.

"This is my room," the woman explained, wearing nothing but a towel from the shower.

"This is…" Emma didn't know where to look. Her eyes were burning. "Your room. Sorry. I'll go." She turned around and frantically re-opened the latch, throwing her legs back over the ledge.

A still-wet hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. "You can leave through the door, if you want," she suggested. The blonde was already hanging halfway out the window with the most shocking expression that the other woman had ever seen. She was pulled back inside.

"I thought you were out with Tink," the sheriff muttered, her eyes darting across the room, careful not to stare.

"I was, but for a shorter time span than I previously thought I'd be," Regina responded almost uncaringly. She traipsed over to the bed and sat down on its edge. "Would you like to tell me why you climbed through my window?"

"No," Emma said promptly, slowly inching towards the door. "I mean, I forgot my keys. And I didn't want to disturb anyone."

"Well, you didn't succeed at being very subtle," the older woman laughed, gesturing for her to sit down on the bed too.

The saviour shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere near you."

Regina frowned and adjusted her towel. "You break into my bedroom and you won't even have a conversation with me?"

The childish dismissal continued.

"Come here now," Regina pursued, not taking no for an answer. Her legs were still slightly damp and a few drops of water were staining the covers.

Emma obliged. "Fine. I give up." She walked over to the other woman and sat down with her shoulders slumping, blood rushing up into her cheekbones. "I'm sorry for surprising you like this."

"Surprising _me_?" she replied with another laugh. "You're the one who looked like you had seen a ghost."

"I'm not afraid of ghosts."

"Well…" She played with the edge of the towel on her thigh. "That's how it seemed."

Emma Swan could think of just about a trillion things she was afraid of, but instead, she said, "I'm not afraid of anything."

"Really? Nothing?" Regina found it hard to believe, especially since the other woman was still panting and blushing furiously.

"Nothing," she resounded. "Nothing today."

There was a moment of nothingness between the two.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Regina exclaimed before briskly hopping up off the bed.

"Technically," Emma drawled, her memory slow, and then realised why she had broken into her own house in the first place. "I needed to grab some paperwork. It's in my room." She paused. "I'll go get it."

"Don't bother," the older woman told her.

She looked up at Regina and furrowed her eyebrows. "But I have to get back to the station–"

"Forget it. Mary Margaret will be dropping off Neal soon and there's no way I'm letting you get out of this awful babysitting job."

Emma crossed and uncrossed her legs on the bed. "You don't have to do that. He's my brother."

"He's three decades your junior."

"Age is just a number in Storybrooke," she claimed. "You should know that better than anyone."

Regina wasn't impressed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she whispered, leaning back and resting her elbows on the bed covers. _I could get used to this_, she thought. "I saw Henry's girlfriend earlier."

The other woman had walked over to her closet and was running her hands through outfit choices. "Henry doesn't have a girlfriend," she sang out.

Emma was boxed in again, admiring her silently from afar but all the more trying not to stare. "Aster. She's nice."

"Aster?" she echoed, just as she pulled out a skirt and held it up to her body. "Apologies, but nobody's good enough for our son, no matter how nice they are."

The blonde rolled over to her side and put a hand under her chin. "It isn't going to be me, you and Henry forever, you know. Sooner or later one of us is going to meet someone." She grinned devilishly. "It could be you."

"Really?" Regina murmured, somewhat distracted by her own reflection in the mirror. "And why have you been fussing so much about my love life lately?"

Emma shrugged.

"What about _yours_?"

She shrugged again.

Dark eyes fluttered. "I rest my case," the woman said as she made her way to the bathroom with her clothes.

The saviour was left on the bed with a headache. "You're killing me in that towel," she groaned under her breath as Regina walked away.

"What?" She ducked her head around the corner of the door.

"Nothing…" Emma sputtered. "I said…I asked if you're willing to help me…now."

"With what?" she said in a breath.

The younger woman squinted. "Can you…" She gulped. Regina just looked so tempting standing there. "Don't worry."

* * *

><p>It wasn't long before the doorbell rung and it was Mary Margaret carrying about a dozen baby supplies of all shapes and sizes. Neal was barely visible in the stroller. Emma freaked out a bit at the thought of taking care of her brother since she never considered herself the best with children; Henry was different though, he was easy to just <em>be<em> with. Babies needed attention and care and dedication.

Regina had it all under control. "Hello, little one," she said to Neal, brushing a finger over his tiny hands while Mary Margaret and Emma looked on.

"He's been so adorable today," the mayor assured. "Very well behaved."

"Good to know," she replied as they took all the supplies inside. Everything was taken to the living room where the fireplace was lit and the warmth and air of the place made all of them drowsy.

"We're going to come and pick him up later." Mary Margaret set up a cot and made sure her son was settled. "We'll drop Henry back here too."

Neal was blinking slowly and stretching out his tiny little arms, and at that point, they all knew he wouldn't be awake for long.

"Good luck!" she added, checking the time on her phone. She was led out to the porch. Regina waited by the cot and whispered something to Neal.

"What did you just say to my brother?" Emma asked once her mother had left.

"It's a secret," she responded with another whisper and put a finger to her lips.

"Hmm." The younger woman headed into the kitchen and called out, "Want a drink?"

"Yes please," was the reply.

* * *

><p>While the baby was asleep, they were strung out on the lounge.<p>

"I think we should get a puppy or something."

"Don't be stupid," she told her. "There is no need for any more animals in this household."

Emma reached out a hand and cupped the other woman's cheek, fluttering her eyelids ridiculously. "You're right. I only need you."

Regina chuckled and took another sip of wine. "Aren't you charming…"

"Don't compare me to my father," she insisted.

The queen lowered her gaze. "You only want me for my house. And my son, and my cooking," she scoffed playfully.

"You're wrong," Emma rebuffed, becoming lost in her eyes for a moment, and then snapping back into reality. "Just your house and your cooking."

Regina sneered. "What a surprise."

"But I don't think it's so stupid to want a pet," she persisted with her argument, despite knowing very well her co-parent would despise having one around.

"We've got too much going on at the moment."

Emma crossed her arms. "Nothing's going on at the moment."

Regina set down her glass on the table beside the lounge. "Someone has to bring you down from the clouds, dear."

"And someone has to get _you_ up off the ground," she immediately thought. Sometimes she forgot what she was saying to the other woman, because everything was either an oracular remark or made her reel back or meant something else altogether. And just like that, there was nothing between them, nothing that could ever hold them back from one another or spark a barricade of any sort. There was no reason why she couldn't take the woman into her arms right then and there.

But it was, "Oh no," which the woman was saying as Neal suddenly let out a whimpering cry. They both jumped up and tended to him, but it soon became apparent that he was all too fond of attachment, which could have been foreseen with the amount of attention Mary Margaret always gave him.

Regina held the baby in her lap on the lounge while Emma tickled his belly and made silly faces at him until the tears started to disappear. They stayed there for a while, the blonde making small circles with her fingertips on his soft hands and feet, her brother snuggled into Regina, flinching sometimes but always sleepy.

The fireplace crackled and sweltered with the warmth of the oncoming evening; they had no sense of the time because it wasted away with every shared breath, and with every shared breath the fire burned brighter and better.

"I like this," Regina said quietly.

The queen had never admitted to such a thing in quite some time, but all at once her secrets seemed like nothing in the face of the other woman.

Emma dragged her hand around her brother's knee before it found its way onto the older woman's thigh. "Me too."

She felt it, with the wine, cloud her head, and her heart.

* * *

><p>"Guys."<p>

The night glimmered through the windows.

"Guys," Henry repeated, touching Emma's shoulder. "Get up."

"Shit, what happened?" she groaned as she tucked her hair behind her ears and looked up at the others around her. Regina was still there on the lounge, rubbing her eyes, but Mary Margaret, David and her son were standing tall above them.

"It's alright," her mother hushed, Neal sleeping in her arms. "You two were asleep, but not for long I gather."

"No," Regina told her. "Not for long, I don't think…"

Emma was still half-dazed. "How…" She sat up properly. "How was it?"

"Great, there was live music and everyone was in attendance," David said energetically. "And tomorrow everyone's going for a few more special events, but unfortunately we _can't_ because–"

"I told him we shouldn't," Mary Margaret cut him off. "To give you two some time without a child to take care of."

"I'm _not_ a child," Henry held out, still a little angry at how they all considered him. But the boy was obsessed with fairytales and fantasies. What else could they assume?

"Well, _you're_ child was actually quite pleasant," Regina said to the mayor, "which, you must know, is a lot for me to say."

Mary Margaret smiled as David packed up all the baby supplies. "I know."

It was exceedingly late, so they sent Henry straight off to bed. After all, he did have school the next day and probably hadn't been thinking about homework or how much sleep he'd get before dragging himself out of bed in the morning. He was being quieter than usual, but most likely tired from all the apparent fun he was having down at the docks. His mothers decided not to inquire too much into it.

"Henry will be at yours tomorrow after school," Emma reminded her mother.

She nodded in response and gathered up her things. "Yes."

They all bid each other goodbye. Regina turned to the woman next to her. They shared a look, one that was unexplainable. And then, without the momentum to reside in their respective rooms, they returned to their previous positions on the lounge, dreaming into the morning.


	10. Black Desert Rain

Notes:_ +++ Here goes._

* * *

><p><span><strong>X. Black Desert Rain<strong>

Regina looked into the mirror and decided to change her earrings. Gold would do, complimenting a night-blue cashmere dress, suede heels, lipstick…

"Come on!" Emma shouted up the stairs, tapping her boots on the floor. She found herself acting like a teenager when the other woman ceased to get ready to go out on time, and they had already called a car to take them down to the docks because parking would simply be beyond the bounds of possibility. When there was no echo of an answer, she apologised, "Sorry!"

The older woman was too busy perfecting every last detail of her appearance before she stood atop the stairs. Her room was smoking with the scent of perfume, littered with mixed items of makeup and jewellery too. She had a funny feeling about that night and couldn't seem to satisfy herself enough to go down to the car just yet.

Emma, who was wearing both black jeans and a jacket, had made a special effort to arrive home from work as soon as possible. Although, she was still rewarded with at least an hour of waiting for her counterpart, banned from seeing her before they had to leave. The car beeped its horn outside. "Regina, there's a fire!" she slumped over the staircase and called out again.

"Then put it out!" she heard.

The saviour sometimes forgot she was able to wield magic. "Damn it, Regina. If you're not ready in sixty seconds, I'm coming up there."

There was nothing but silence emanating from the upstairs room, until a muffled, "Fine," was audible.

"God, dating you must be a nightmare," Emma continued, circling around the bottom of the staircase.

Regina turned off the lights and closed her door. She walked through the hallway to the top of the stairs and saw the other woman leaning against the wall below. "Well, it's a good thing we aren't dating then."

The blonde cooled when she saw her stroll down to the lower level. "Is it, though?" she wondered, stating everything she was thinking all at once.

"Stop staring at me," Regina told her, but she was coy and spoke in a low voice.

Emma swallowed. "I can't. You're…you are…you just look so–"

"You look very nice," she interjected, approaching her.

"Yeah." Her eyes were glued like cement. "You look alright, I guess."

Regina walked over to the front door and picked up an umbrella from a basket in the corner. "It might rain," she said as an air of impatience filled the room.

"I don't think so," Emma uttered, before following her and taking it out of her hands. "Besides, there'll be shelter there."

The queen raised her eyebrows and rested against the doorframe. "You're being awfully bossy today, sheriff." She smiled. "Bad day at work?"

The ostensibly bossy sheriff simply opened the door and rolled her eyes. Without thinking, she put her arm around the other woman, who let out a breath of surprised laughter when she felt the sleeve of a leather jacket around her waist. "It's always a bad day," Emma made sure she knew.

"Was Prince Charming being a royal pain?" she asked as they went through the garden to the black car waiting on the street.

"_You're_ the royal pain." The driver opened the passenger door for them to step inside. "Taking a century to get ready and all."

Once they were inside the vehicle, Emma lifted her arm away from the other woman's waist. She peered out the window at the white sky, scanning for any sign of rain, which was, for now, absent.

"What really happened?" Regina questioned without wavering from the subject.

"Not much." She sifted through her memory and couldn't quite put a finger on why the day had gone by so boringly. Maybe it was because being sheriff without all of Storybrooke's many mysteries and villains to investigate didn't do much for her. "How was your day?"

"It was fine," she concluded.

"Have you been excited for our date?" Emma asked her.

"It's not a date," she dismissed as the car started to drive along Mifflin street. "You wish it was a date."

The blonde had been trying so hard not to cross any lines, but it was already way past that point, and so it was reduced to having to navigate unknown territory while they travelled to the boat show. "When's the last time you went on a date?"

She pressed her lips together and sunk into a pool of thought. "I don't think I've ever been on one, actually."

"You've _never _been on a date?" Emma could barely believe it.

Regina shook her head and looked downwards. "No, no conventional dates."

The younger woman leant in and spoke gently into her ear. "And what's a conventional date?"

The dark-haired woman laughed lightly as grey clouds passed by behind her through the glass, attempting to think of the most generic answer. "Well, when you get picked up, go out somewhere, spend time with someone…" There was another giggle. "I don't know!"

"Kind of like what we're doing now," Emma remarked in high-pitched tones.

Regina quietened herself. "It's not a date."

"Whatever," she said. The car turned a corner. "I won't dictate your opinion."

"So what, you're a dating expert now?" the queen chuckled with evil eyes.

"I've had my fair share," Emma informed her. "Mostly conventional, though."

"Sounds agonising." She rested an elbow against the base of the windowpane while the docks came into view in the distance. "No excitement whatsoever."

"Yes," the sheriff teased sarcastically, "nothing like all of _your_ adventurous escapades."

"Hmm," Regina hummed. "In fact, I don't even recall myself agreeing to this one."

The sounds of the vehicle's wheels rolling through Storybrooke's streets, winding down to the port and the docks, carried on until they were as close to the coast as physically possible. There was a crowd up ahead, and various groups of people moving towards it. A huge white tent was erected in the background and the sea glittered in black and silver.

"This is as far as I can take you," said the driver before they stepped out of the car. The weather remained dormant.

They thanked and paid him and made their way onto the pavement. Just behind it was a large grass area where the tent was, and a few other tents behind it with music and an outside restaurant. Behind those were the warehouses where most of the town's citizens strayed around, mingling and touring. Then there were the ramp-ways to the boats, which were bobbing on the water and decked out with rainbow-hued lights.

"Ever wanted a yacht?" Emma asked with an inquisitive curiosity as they walked.

"No," Regina assured her. "The maintenance would be torturous, and for what? After Neverland, I don't think I'll ever set foot on any ship again."

The younger woman held her arm and pointed at a boat in the distance. It was vast and painted with the colours of pearl and navy, beautifully catching the sparkling lights of the show. "I'm going to take you on that one tonight."

"You're going to steal a boat for me?" she exclaimed.

Emma laughed with honesty while they motioned towards a familiar crowd. "I would, but they're unfortunately only for display purposes tonight."

"How disappointing," she huffed. "It would have made our date worthwhile."

The sheriff reeled back. "So this is only a date if we elope on a ship?" She gave out another suppressed laugh. "Wow, you really _don't_ do conventional, do you…"

"What are you two doing here?" a voice came out of the crowd. They looked around and eventually saw Will Scarlet emerge from within a group of young men in front of them. "This is no place for authority!"

Emma slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. "Careful, or I might arrest you for bad behaviour."

"You two are friends?" Regina inquired. A judgemental expression became obvious on her face.

"Will spends a lot of his time at the station," she explicated, turning her gaze to him. "It's almost like we work together, isn't it?"

"You're right about that!" he said. However, he still didn't expect to see them there, away from the elite circle of the Charmings and the recent Arendelle royals. "She talks about you all the time," he advised Regina. "Non-stop. Every day, in every way–"

"He's lying," Emma interrupted. "I _work_ at work."

"What are you working on?" he flared. "A spoken-word biography of the former Evil Queen?"

Regina tried to repress the laughter that reached up into her chest. "I'm beginning to think he isn't exaggerating, dear."

"Oh, he's exaggerating, that's for sure." She was scowling at him now and almost regretted attending the event in the first place if these imbeciles were going to pop out of the shadows in order to ridicule her.

Will withdrew his statements with an appropriately apologetic look. "I saw your parents last night," he said, changing the subject. "Mary Margaret and I are becoming quite fond of one another. David's still…" He scrunched up his face like he had smelt something bad. "Tricky."

"He _is_ a tricky sheriff," she agreed before letting Regina in on a whispered secret. "I'm the cool one."

"And the popular one, so it seems," the woman said as she glimpsed another group of men head over towards them, consisting of dockworkers and heavy-duty labourers.

The men thanked the sheriff for working on the boat case, despite it being held off on for the time being, and personally invited her to come and see the pearl ship she had caught sight of beforehand. "We're still doing testing on that model," they told her, "but it's striking and new."

"Soon," she said, becoming far too entrenched in the crowd. She latched onto Regina's hand and whisked her away through the many circles of townspeople.

The two women hastened to have some dinner, yet couldn't escape the chattering people of Storybrooke darting at them like flies from every angle. They supposed that it was what happened in towns, friendliness everywhere, so much so that they were swarmed, especially the saviour. She looked for Ruby, too, but she didn't seem to be anywhere. They only exchanged a few words in the space of an hour until they pulled away again and went down towards the warehouses.

"Want to run away with me?" Emma panted as they quickened their pace to the port.

Regina snickered at her. "Let's just see this thing."

There were a few longer minutes of jostling and boarding of the yacht, which was sitting still on the water, ready for the next tour.

* * *

><p>"And here, you can see that the interior decoration is simply spectacular."<p>

Emma wiped her hand across her forehead. "I'm bored," she whispered to the other woman. "Let's go up to the deck."

Regina cast her a stern glare. "You can't just go wherever you want."

"Yes you can," she argued. "Come on."

They snuck through the interested party of nautical enthusiasts, and after Emma unclasped the fastened rope-barrier to the upwards-leading stairs, went onto the vast stretch of the yacht's deck, which was white and glowing against the dark sky.

Regina let out a long exhalation, breathing stiffly as the other woman led her to the edge of the open railing. They both waited in silence for a moment while they noticed the stars, glossy and radiant, twinkling above them throughout the black expanse. A cool breeze rushed through the air, the sounds of people exploring the cabins below reverberating like night murmurings.

Emma leant over the railing with her elbows resting among the colourful lights, which twisted around the outline of the entire upper deck. She looked out at the sky and pointed a finger towards an array of faraway stars. "If you look closely…"

The eyes of the woman next to her followed the path of the interspace and saw the triangular shape in the distance.

"Those stars there," she continued, squinting to get a better look. She pointed to the star on the right. "That's me…" The other woman watched her intently. She pointed to the one on the left. "And that's you." Finally, her fingertip motioned in alignment with the star just below them, completing the triangle. "And that's Henry."

"Please," Regina begged, "do not pretend to be an astrology expert."

Emma simpered but her gaze didn't veer away from the sky. "It's our family."

The queen said something faint in response before lifting up her own hand to point at two black rainclouds below the stars. "And those are your parents."

They bumped shoulders softly and laughed. A fine rain started to sprinkle down on them but they didn't care. The water was delicate and illuminated the deck and the lights flickered in pigments of rose and aquamarine.

"Regina," Emma suddenly said. She turned to her and took a step closer. "I don't think I've ever been so sure of anything in my life."

The woman felt a warm sensation ignite in her chest, making her breath even thicker. "Please, don't say that."

"I have to," she insisted.

They began to hear people coming up the stairs. The rain was beating heavier now. Regina didn't know what to do with herself. She feared everything the saviour could put into words. "For me, please…just don't say it."

Emma immediately lost her confidence as the tour group moved forth onto the upper deck and started to spread along the railing in small packs. The two women ducked out of the rain and went back down the stairs into the main cabin where they were previously, before stepping back over the bridge and onto the port.

* * *

><p>"You can't just sit here and wait." Will was eating half a burger when he sat down next to Emma on one of the benches by the water.<p>

"I still find it hard to believe that you haven't been following me," she let him know. The rain had subsided and they were left at the edge of the docks sharing fleeting comments.

He dragged his feet across the ground, thinking of something to say. "Go after her."

"She said she had to make a phone call," Emma countered. "Not leave the planet."

Beforehand, Regina had hurried up the grassed-off area to the shelter of one of the tents, mobile at close reach. They could see her in the distance with the phone up to her ear, trudging around in slow circles. The whole night was winding down and people were starting to leave, especially since most of them had been at the event the day before.

"Shit, she's probably calling the car."

"What actually happened?" he questioned with a casual grin.

"Nothing happened," she seethed. "That's the problem. I was an idiot." Her voice became airy. "As usual."

He shrugged his shoulders and took another bite of food. "Well, no good is going to come from sulking."

"Look. I don't even know if she likes…I don't know." The words wouldn't come out. "…Likes things that way, likes _me _even being around her, at all."

"Yes she does," he affirmed without a doubt. He didn't understand how he knew, neither did any of them, but it was just _there_. The yearning, the attachment. The depth, the infatuation. It was all there.

Emma stood up, brushed off her jeans and held herself high. "Okay. I'm doing it."

"Doing what, exactly?" he asked.

The blonde laughed deeply and patted him on the knee. "Regina!" she called out before walking quickly over to the tent. Underestimating the distance, the woman didn't hear her, and started moving up the hill. "Regina–" she called out again but it was no use. The sheriff groaned and followed her up the path, the woman going through the opening of another tent.

When Emma finally reached the shelter and stepped through the aperture, there was nobody inside except them standing there, Regina's hair slightly damp, clutching her phone in hand. "I'm sorry," she said, throwing her hands up. "I called the car. I panicked."

The saviour approached her slowly, boots treading in the soil. Tired of wasting time.

"Sorry," Regina sighed again, the language of her movement tempered with longing. Blanketed in on all sides by white screens, they were alone. She had already told the other woman not to say anything, but she didn't need to say anything at all. Because when Emma came closer, close enough for the queen's perfume to encircle her like an aphrodisiac, it was as if the stars in every land were aligned. And when she leant in, kissed her and felt the taste of her lips, she knew.

She knew that they only existed in each other's arms, inhaling the scent of grass after rain, of hope after loss, of light after darkness.


End file.
